Peanut butter


It has warmed up to one degree. Mom wants her newspaper and one of her bird feeders has fallen into the snow. She wants me to go and do both of these things for her. Get the paper and pick up the feeder. She was talking to the dog and telling him she needed to go and do some things outside. She can barely WALK without aid and she is just trying to guilt me into doing them. As I listen to the wind rattling on the house, I know I will go and get the paper. The window pane on my basement window is making music with whistles and bumps, the trees are bowing to the breeze, and on this Windsday, I will am being guilted into doing something for mom. Again.

I just wrote a bit about this in a response to a blog. How mom tends to spread guilt like peanut butter. Thick and sticky and hard to remove. She knows she can do it, even at my ripe old age. Am off to do some of the things mom wants. Plus I need to make her lunch and give her meds and who am I to avoid the frigid temps of the north from the wind or mom? Rolling eyes! 


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