Four-Nap Day

 

For the record:  the pictures this morning are leftovers from my recent travels around the area. 

After all, when you take four naps in one day, there's not a lot of time for photo excursions. 

And, for the record I'm NOT often a napper. 

I did leave the Lovestead once yesterday to go to town and pick up my curbside groceries at Yoke's. 

Even that felt like a chore.  Seemed like the trip home where I could crash on the couch took forever.  

I think that was Nap No. 2.  

Nap No. 1 occurred about half an hour into my first cup of coffee and web surfing.  

The task at hand in front of the computer seemed formidable, so eventually, I gave up, crashed on a bed and slept for half an hour. 

Then, it was time to do morning chores which yesterday brought with it a sense of dread. 

Would I ever get those horses down the lane?

Leading horses down a lane to pasture is usually no big deal, but when each of your legs and feet weigh 400 pounds every step of the way, it takes forEVer.

I took Naps No. 3 and 4 during the early afternoon and the late afternoon, actually mowing some lawn in between.  Sitting on a lawnmower doesn't take too much energy, but when I took a break, my energy was sapped leading into Nap No. 4.

Then, came the six walks up and down the lane. By this time, even Nap No. 4 had not replenished the energy or the desire to lead those horses to the barn.

But nobody else was gonna do it, so I had no choice but to pick up those 400-pound legs and feet over a course of 250 steps each way. 

Once again, this chore took forEVer before I could go back and collapse on the couch.  

Thank God, however, for Tylenol, the extra strength variety. 

After taking one pill in the morning after Nap No. 1, I remembered feeling somewhat human as every muscle in my body, especially the one on my left upper arm had been screaming in unison throughout the night and well into the morning.  

Tylenol stopped that for a while. 

While leading the horses, I felt a headache coming on, so I rationalized that it was time to take my second Tylenol.  

It seemed like a wonder drug because within minutes I was feeling fully human again.  My appetite came back as my desire to do something besides sleeping on the couch, so after eating some dinner, I returned to the lawnmower. 

Even after that job was completed, I still felt like being active.  So, I took a dish from the cupboard out to the garden and started picking beans. 

About 33 beans into the picking job, something rubbed emphatically against my left index finger.  

I immediately pulled back,  realizing that the "something" was a nasty bee lurking under a bean leaf. 

Twas a mean bee too cuz that piercing sting hurt 100 times more than the needle Wendy at Family Health had stuck into my upper arm on Wednesday. 

Talk about adding insult to injury.  

I was just coming back to life after one poke from a nice nurse when another jab from a disgruntled bee sends me to the house and to the soda and to the Dawn dish-washing soap. 

I've heard both are helpful with bee stings. 

All that kitchen medical treatment could not stop the swelling or the itching.  I accepted the fact that during this particular night's attempt at sleeping I'd be scratching that swollen finger. 

Well, happily, the itch quit and I fell almost immediately into a deep sleep which lasted most of the night. 

All this body drama because of a booster shot. 

I'll take it, though, especially because this morning has so far been napless. My body and mind have returned to a somewhat normal state.

They (don't know who "they" are) say, "No pain, no gain." 

Well, yesterday's pain and total lack of energy are leading toward a priceless gain:  several months of protection against Covid. 

The nice part is that most folks who are vaccinated know in advance there will be side effects, so many---if they (Bill) aren't fishing the Little Coeur d'Alene River---plan a sick day. I'm thinking that in Bill's mind fishing must cure all ills.  

We Vaxxers, often dubbed as "sheep,"  also know that those side effects lasting about 36 hours signal that the vaccine is doing its work.  

When its initial work is done, the body is set up to fight off the worst of the worst.

This morning's assessment:  I feel fine.  I'm gruntled and relieved and ready to take on the world, making up for the relatively lost day. 

No time for naps today. Trips down the lane this morning with each of the horses were pleasant experiences. 

Happy Friday.  Enjoy the leftovers.