I woke yesterday morning full of vim and vigor. Why? The only thing I can think of is I’ve quit taking the anti-depressant medication. I’m not near as drowsy as I was – I don’t crave a nap an hour after I’ve arisen. This is good. As far as what I was taking it for, the anxiety? Well. so far so good. Maybe I’m just going to have to comprimise…
At any rate, I was up with the birds (okay, to be fair, our birds are around all the time, so that’s not exactly true). I was up early with the pups – let them out to do their thing, then went back to bed for a couple more hours. I won’t say it had to do with a bit too much bourbon the night before, but I did have a tad…
Finally, up at a reasonable time to start the day, I dressed, did the dishes, got some laundry going, took care of all the critters – feathered and otherwise. Then Hubs brought the small tractor and loader bucket down to the house and I gave him a ride back to the shop. Now the real work begins.
He let me borrow his heavy leather welding gloves. Why? You ask… was I going to be welding? Nope. I was going to comb out my much-knotted himalyn cat. Normally I’ve taken her to the vet where it takes two or three people to hold her down while they comb her out. They do it bare-handed, which in my mind is pure foolishness. Yes, she has no claws, but she does have extremely sharp teeth and under those circumstances is not afraid to use them. I figured I’d watched the vet handle her enough times to know that even when her eyes bugged out and she made those “I can’t breath” noises, she was okay. My cat also has a cool move I call the “aligator roll”. She’ll just start rolling until she breaks your hold on her neck. I had her on the kitchen counter, though, where she couldn’t get traction (no claws) and when she tried her twisty-kitty move she rolled in my hand about four times until I just picked her up and let her hang. That got her attention and she stopped immediatly. About 30 minutes later, I had another whole cat’s worth of fur on the counter (and myself) and a beautifully groomed cat. She hates the process, but you can tell she always feels so much better when she’s done. When I put her down she didn’t even run!
One funny note… as I was doing this, the other cats all took turns getting up on the barstools to watch. I don’t think they knew quite what to think of this!
Then I really got down to business. Mulching the gardens. A lot of things had been mulched last fall before the snow set in – the roses, and some of the more sensative plants. Now I had a bunch of bare spots to fill in as well as the area of the garden I’d extended in the back yard. Mulching is go nice for the plants – holding in the moisture and keeping their little “feet” cool. I had a huge pile of mulch the local tree trimmer guy had brought down and I donned my garden gloves and an attitude and began. Much to my dismay, this was not the best mulch he has ever brought. It was full leaves as well as wood, and although I couldn’t see it, I’m sure in all that dust I was generating there was mold. Mulching from about 10 a.m. until almost 5 p.m., I got a snootful – and a lungful. I felt fine at first. I showered, and my eldest daughter came by to have supper with the younger daughter. (Hubs was racing again).
As we sat and visited I gradually began to cough… and felt my chest begin to tighten. This is not a good feeling. My younger daughter had picked up Thai food on her way home from work, and I could barely eat. Hubs called and said the races got rained out, so they were coming home. We were sitting on the porch when it clouded up and began to spit rain… yippee! We need it badly. Hubs got home just as it started to really come down. We all sat on the front porch and watched it rain… bundled in jackets and sweatshirts. It had really cooled down! Unfortunatly, not as much as we’d hoped – only about a 10th. Bah.
The girls decided to go to Dairy Queen and pick up some dessert, so I rode along for the company and they decided I needed to try some Muselix (sp?) – the medicine that’s suppose to break up phlem in your lungs. I’m game. At this point I feel pretty congested. On the way home I began to shake. Uh oh…this is not a good sign. It’s cooled of, but not that cool. Home, I decide to medicate and hit the bed… by now I’m shaking like a leaf and my teeth are chattering. I climb into bed with heavy pj’s, a sweater, heavy socks, and my electric blanket dialed up to 7. My big black cat flops down across me, trying to do his part, and I just shake. Finally, Hubs comes to bed and I make him throw another blanket over me.
Now the fun begins. The pups start to growl and work up to a bark – the male, anyway. I hear the other one coughing. Great… they were out in that mulch when I was putting it out, too. I suppose they’ve got the same thing I have. I got up about 11 o’clock and let them out, thinking that would satisfy the barkiness… but no such luck. I don’t know if he knew something was wrong and was trying to tell me, or what, but I did not need to jump up every hour to tell him to be quiet!
I was still shivering, so took my temperature. 101.3. Huh. I really was sick!
All in all, a “fun” night…
Now? Now it is almost 11:30 a.m. I got up about an hour ago, ate some cereal, and took more medicine. The sweat-soaked pj’s tell me my fever broke during the night sometime, and my body is trying to recover. I’m still congested and have a headache and feel really bleck, but I’m guessing (and hoping) the worst is over.
Hubs came out yesterday with is normal wise comments… “You crazy woman! You’re going to overdo it again! I’ve seen it a hundred times!” Damn. I hate it when he’s right.