Finally … my plate is almost clear! After running into some last-minute obstacles last night, I managed to finish up the newsletter a few minutes ago. I dealt with a few e-mails that needed attention, wrote a letter of support for a preservation project in Texas, and now I’m ready to start reading that stack of magazines next to my bed.
I’d kind of like to take a shower, but I’m balking at the thought of hot water hitting this sunburn … which did NOT fade to a “golden tan” like I’d hoped it would. (It did, however, dehydrate me and give me a fever and chills. Yippee.)
That’s what I get for tolerating error, I suppose. I’m not sure why I decided to accept a sunburn and sore muscles as the natural consequence of enjoying a pretty afternoon in the garden, but I seem to do it every year … and of course I get the same unpleasant results every year. (Note to self: “Standing porter” is way easier than cleaning up the aftermath when you don’t. I wonder how long it will take me to get the hang of that?)
On the up side, my rotten physical condition today gave me the chance to see, once again, how much my dog loves me. Scout pretends she doesn’t care what I do, but her carefully hidden sweet streak shows through whenever I’m sick. She gets all worried about me and won’t let me out of her sight. If I won’t let her up on the bed, she’ll sit on the floor right beside me, guarding me like a little soldier and making this sad face at me, as if to say, “Mom? You’ll be OK, won’t you? Please?” It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
I always know when healing is imminent, because about an hour before I start to feel better, Scout ditches me and goes off to relax on her papasan chair in the living room. I don’t know how she knows, but she always does.
I am pleased to report that she is now fast asleep on the papasan, and has been for a couple of hours … which tells me it’s probably safe to take that shower now.