THE JOYS OF BEING AN OLD BUZZARD
AND LIVING ALONE.
Cares to worry about, me, myself and I, plus two little dogs, in morning if I want an extra cup of coffee and lounge all I have worry about is the extra trip down the hallway, a major excursion. Alarm clocks do not ring or buzz and there are no rush hours to be concerned about. Most important appointment is warming up the puter in the morning. The nag is the hay burner in the neighbors pasture, the noise is the song of the morning birds and view is clear sky, no haze.
Not all is great though for there are trials. The mid section expanded and put undue duress on the top button. Using the one armed pushback the tension on the mid section has been reduced. But the button was under so much pressure it left. It followed the flight of gravity and went someplace. The britches were comfortable and in the summer a little lighter weight. To replace a button for me is a major endeavor. I have a shirt hanging on the laundry hook, missing a button, from a few months ago. Lost track it has been there so long.
The army did help me understand how to attach buttons. The laundry service was so rough I had a missing in action button replacement bin. Sitting in the evening replacing lost buttons was not my idea of a GI evening out. So when I saw the button above the fly had fled I knew what was necessary. Fetch needle and thread. Now the shirt it will probably stay there till this winter when I want to wear it. This is summer and to be missing a top flight button is not comfortable.
Ouch, and I haven’t even got the needle threaded. Gonna apply to the heart supply company for a commendation of wounded while sewing. Well the eyes are far from well sighted and threading a needle is like taking a camel through the eye. I have to use a threader and even to punch that thru the needle is an adventure. Oops, missed try again, eyes squint, where is the needles eye, there. Eventually it gets threaded.
Now where did I set the button? I raided a can of buttons in a rummage sale just for this occasion. It had wooden ones, round ones and, metal, shell, plastic, big ones and little ones. I found one in the bin I wanted to use for my britches now if I can just remember where I parked it. Being an old buzzard I can circle it until I spot it.
Button in hand I set down in easy chair. Old buzzard has to have one, gets tiring circling looking for button. Tie knot in thread and slip needle through trousers and hole in button. Slide needle back thru and poke self in finger, ouch. Old buzzard needs to be more careful. After some time needle with thread loops through button and britches, Ah Ha button is somewhat attached to jeans. We’ll, try them on some other time. It was a major effort just to get button on. Putting pants on is a later journey.
AHHHH….the joys of life. Que Sera.