"It's her pork roast".

I could just cry today. 

The pork roast turned out good.  Even Gravy wanted some.  Ron was on the toilet and heard him begging, and laughed.  The baby "Yellow Dutch" potatoes made the whole meal.  They did not get mushy. 

Things went fine at work.  All is back to normal, except for the water.  We will get our own, and to me it's truly worth the extra effort. 

We came home and I took a nap.  Biscuit laid on me and we had a good one, but I was a little stiff due to lack of movement.   Ron wanted, and ate some pork roast, then had a horribly bloody bowel movement.  Yike. 

We went to the doctor's office.  They liked my documentation.  Boy, I had a lot.  Doc was NOT impressed with either of the reports, so has scheduled Ron for a new colonscopy.  He doesn't agree with the UC diagnosis, either. 

So, God only knows.  Ron claimed it was my pork roast.  I can't help laughing every time he says that. 

Doc ordered a blood test.  Medicare may or may not pay for it.  I sure hope they do.  It wasn't cheap, but it will help them figure out what's wrong. 

Oh, I thought this was done with.  When I got home and sat down, I just wanted to cry.  Loving someone really puts your nuts in a vice. 

When I got home, my neighbor appeared to have installed a new gate.  I'm not 100% certain though, I try not to be the nosy neighbor.  At any rate, if they did work it happened while I was gone.  I also noticed someone fixed our back fence, I had about 8 feet that had totally rotted out.  I put some plywood against it years ago but that was it.  Anyway, someone went at it from the back side (not my yard) and made a nice wood fence.  Now I actually have a fairly secure backyard. 

I don't know whether is was the people behind me, on the left.  They are also behind #6, who just replace his back fence, and most of theirs.    Maybe they disliked the rotted out section so much they just had it done, everything else was pristine.  It appears that way. 

Or, knowing I get bitey when people come in my yard, they may have gone through his fence and done it from the back, not entering my yard. 

At any rate, some nice people fixed my fence while I was with Ron at the digestive diseases doctor. 

Even nicer, when I went to get the mail a neighbor up the street, and across, met me at the mailbox and made a point of thanking us for being "So quiet, I never hear a peep out of you".  

"That's the idea!" I replied with a grin.  "I hate party animals!"

"You got that right," she said, looking at #6 "Animals".  I snickered. 

I didn't mention I was the cat lady.  I figured if she didn't know, I wouldn't tell. 

[sigh]  Anyway, the headache's finally gone.  I need to be better about handing Ron over to God. 

I just wish this were OVER.