And to round off a perfect weekend ...
Thing 1 and I are sick. She got sent home from school today hacking up a lung and running fever. That's how I woke up. Shivery, coughy, feverish, and miserable. Phooey. You can hand my lung back now, thank you. I actually *needed* my inhaler last night. I haven't used that in ages. Might be time to switch from Allegra to something else, because this SUCKS.
I don't know if all the outdoor work with our horridly high pollen count just set our allergies off so bad that they moved in to stay and we got sick, or if we picked up some bug, but I haven't felt this crappy in quite a while.
Didn't stop us from making a noonish inspection of the plants outside.
Everything but the bluebonnets are looking pretty good. Her tree is happily budding out all over. One of the wisteria is a little puny, but they're so hard to kill that I'm not worrying about it yet. The bluebonnets may be history. Dammit. Stupid hail. Lost most of the azalea blooms, but that's no real big deal. They'll recover.
Need to get the dead undergrowth of ivy out of the front entryway. Personally, I'd rather just yank most of it out entirely. We'll see if I can get permission for that. Did yank some of the undergrowth out, but I didn't have my gloves or a rake with me at inspection time, and I'd rather not disturb any snakes or centipedes without something between me and them.
Kinda funny. I'm pretty ambivalent about insects and other creepy crawlies unless they're actively touching me. Then it depends on what it is, and how big. Small spiders, no biggie, just a casual soft brush to get them off. Anything that buzzes, stings, or is otherwise bigger than my fingernail is another matter entirely.
Things 2 & 1 and DG, on the other hand ...
Bwack bwack bwack! Hey, I smell chicken!
I'd like to breathe now, thank you.
This is going to suck. I've *got* to get the zuchinni plants in the ground ASAP or I'm going to lose them. Don't know how that's going to work when I feel like I got caught beneath the lawn mower and shredded.
And I hurt. My body is responding very well to the first Neurontin increase, but the break-through muscle seizures are a lot worse. Luckily they're very rare. And it seems to be helping me sleep somewhat now.
But I pushed really hard this weekend, and my LEFT leg of all things is tweaking and bitching when I walk too far, and my abdomen is complaining. Who needs crunches when you can sit and bend to reach parts of the flower bed while weeding?
Sunburn is still a bit too intense. Owie. My left thigh and left shoulder which is alarmingly scarlet actively hurt. The right isn't as bad, really, just annoying.
Birds are really starting to enjoy the feeders we put out. Positive ID made on male and female house finches, a dozen or so mockingbirds, grackles, crows, some sparrows, a crane, male and female cardinals, robins, and somewhere both an owl and doves.
Need to find the hummingbird feeders.
Oracle and Cassandra both went outside to play with us yesterday. Roy got to listen to talky little Oracle bitch and bitch. I think she had fun, though. Cassie is just a sludge beast and clung to Thing 2.
We've let Zam out once, and he just thinks the backyard is the coolest thing in the world. Harley thinks the backyard is super neat -- until you open the door and take her out, whereupon complete panic reigns. She'll go wild catching the mosquito hawks that make it inside, but the outside world itself is just a little too overwhelming for the little girl.
Dammit, I wanna go outside and play!!!
Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.
Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.
Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.
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