Remember the crazy old ladies next door?
First, I gotta tell you they are the sweetest things. They are so generous, and loving, and willing to help in any way they can. They sent over a pot of noodles last Spring, they gave me a "Loving" Jesus bracelet when hubby died, and they always take time to visit.
So, this morning I stopped in to check on Eda. Eda is the one who broke her hand and was scheduled for surgery. I asked her how the surgery went. This is the punch line, and it really should be at the end of this, but I haven't figured out how to do that yet. I asked, "How'd your surgery go?"
"Ahh, I didn't go in for the surgery," a teensy bit of excitement to her voice here, "but I did go get stitches... ALL OVER MY BODY!"
Oh. My. Lands!
Not only did she have a black and blue bruise under her left eye, but she had stitches on her right forearm, her left hand, her navel, her backside and the top of her left shoulder!!!! I kid you not. This little scrap of a lady was covered in stitches. While she's telling me this her 60 pound bulldog is yanking her off her feet!
Wendy, her younger sister-in-law, comes plodding out and she looks dark, and droopy covered in a gown of indiscriminate color, dun maybe. She puts her hands on the truck window and leans in like she wants to confess and have you give her some sage enlightening advice. After a hello, she puts her hands down to caress and coo to a little black sleek dog, possibly a rat terrier, yipping at her ankles.
In the meantime, with two more dogs in the house barking their hellos and "let me out", Eda has finished her smoke and is letting the big white dog lead her inside.
Why the stitches, you ask? Her youngest nephew's dog had bit her! That's why the dog's now quarantined in the unattached garage in the back. It bit her more than once. It bit her all over!
I just shake my head when I think of her first comment to me, "Oh, I did go to the doctor -- not for surgery, to get stitches! All over my body."
She had more divots than a Belgian waffle!
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