I woke up just fine at 6:30 a.m. today.
The only problem was that it was 5:30 a.m. by the new time.
I’ve been tired and cranky, and sleepy all doggone day.
I think Cowboy’s still on the old time, also.
He rolled right out of bed this morning, no problem at all.
Usually it’s a fight just to get him awake and moving.
We left Badger snoozing happily and headed out into the fog for Cowboy’s appointment.
For safety’s sake, I poked her and told her she was all alone.
I have faith that if someone should break in, Lady would protect Badger.
Look, I may have read a few too many true crime novels and watched a few too many true-crime documentaries.
I don’t particularly like leaving Badger alone, even though she is an adult now.
I’m putting my trust in Lady, a dog who sees joggers as moving targets.
Intruders might find themselves treated the same way.
Heron says she’ll protect her family
That, and a house full of security cameras.
Traffic was a little heavy, but the fog was only patchy, and the office turned out to be easy to find.
The optometrist and staff were friendly, but oh my word, that was one fancy office.
There was a huge fountain in the middle of the reception area, stuffed ducks flying on the ceiling, and a giant waiting area.
If staff didn’t walk you around, you would literally get lost, it’s so large.
The good news is that Cowboy does not have anything in his eye that the walk‑in clinic missed.
The optometrist says he has chronic dry eye disease.
It’s not curable, but it is manageable.
Both his age and the medication he takes are the cause.
He gave him another steroid eye drop, and we go back in two weeks.
Apparently, he should have had another recheck after the clinic gave him steroid eye drops, as they can cause increased eye pressure, which could lead to glaucoma.
He also has to wash his eyelashes with a solution they sell: I’m not entirely sure why, and they also sold him some kind of warming patch.
We stopped at Walmart on the way home to kill some time while CVS filled his prescription.
Cowboy was hoping for cheap candy, but Christmas had already taken over the shelves.
Finally, he said he just wanted to sleep, so we headed to CVS, expecting the drops to be ready.
They weren’t; the order didn’t even get ready until about 2 p.m.
When we got home, Badger had already cleaned and cleared out the laundry room for me.
Cowboy hauled the old washer to the backyard and set the new one in place.
After feeding the chickens and gathering eggs, he came inside and collapsed into his recliner.
He was sound asleep by 12:20 p.m., and he got a two‑hour nap in.
He said he was afraid he would be working over tonight, since most of the second shift workers were at boiler school out of state.
I have begged and begged him to take those classes, but he says it does not come with a pay increase, you are just certified to work on the boiler.
With the new company, you have to be certified to work on it.
I find that a bunch of bull hockey.
Cowboy built those boilers.
No exaggeration, Cowboy has worked in that plant for 46 years, and he has built most of the equipment they use.
But now he is not allowed to work on the boiler because he is not certified.
I know why he will not go.
He struggles with reading and using computers.
Badger and I got to really thinking about what Cowboy told us.
He said that he failed 7th grade, and they wanted him to repeat it before going to 8th grade.
So does that mean he really only has a 6th grade education?
I have always suspected he has dyslexia.
Poor kids back in the 60s sure did not get any diagnosis, though.
Another reason he may not go is that he does not even have a GED, and if the new company were to find out, it could end badly.
Cowboy is far from ignorant.
He may not have traditional book learning, and reading is not his strength, but if you show him a picture, he can build it.
He keeps the plant running with their equipment and has completely renovated our home, taking it down to the studs and rebuilding key parts himself.
He can take apart and reassemble a car or a lawn mower, handle roofing, electrical work, and plumbing. He welds, and sometimes he even turns out whimsical art pieces.
Cowboy did not complete formal schooling, but his practical skills are exceptional.
He learns by doing, solves complex problems, and can build or repair almost anything, proof that a diploma is not the only measure of intelligence.
All of that could still count for nothing if the new company discovers he lacks a diploma or GED, because some employers refuse to overlook formal requirements no matter how skilled a person may be.
Moving on.
It did not seem long before Cowboy was heading to work.
The day slowed after that.
As I often say, this is hibernating season.
I put the old washer on Marketplace, and my computer started dinging like crazy.
At least twenty people wanted it.
I went with the one who said, I can come right now.
Big mistake.
I waited all evening, and then they texted that traffic was too heavy and they would come tomorrow.
So the washer is still sitting under the carport with the raccoons, possums, and stray cats.
We tossed my winter coat in the new washer.
It sings when it finishes, so I suspect it is computerized, though it has no push buttons.
Unless you raid some great granny's kitchen, I doubt you can find a truly old school washer anymore.
It is noisy, just as the reviews warned, but it does the job and gives me hot water without a fuss, so I can live with it.
Later we settled into another evening of our TV series.
We are nearly at the end of this one, so soon we will have to find another to binge.
This episode is almost done, but we still have two more, and I am just too sleepy.
I am heading to bed now.
Maybe I will sleep like a rock.
At least, I sure hope so.
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