In spite of the weather in Aromas, it’s normally very sunny at
Linda’s Last Chance Ranch. We’ve found the best of all possible
worlds out here.
In spite of the weather in Aromas, it’s normally very sunny at Linda’s Last Chance Ranch. We’ve found the best of all possible worlds out here. We have room for all the old Model ‘A’ cars and all my animals.
But this last week has been a real test. A week ago Monday my significant other had two wisdom teeth pulled and by the start of the weekend he was in real pain from what they call a “dry socket.”
That Friday I took my fourth set of shots for Hepatitis C. That’s the medical regimen of shots and pills that cure you by damned near killing you.
So in spite of the beautiful weather last weekend, there was no sunshine, no happy smiles at the Ranch, just a desire to sleep it away.
Even the animals were unhappy. The Ranch is 10 acres divided into two pastures – a lower one around the house that’s about two acres and an upper one of about eight acres with a ravine, trees and open pastures that abut the pastures of other horses. Guess which one our animals like to call home.
But as my S.O. says, “We ain’t fencing and feeding a bunch of animals just so we can cut the weeds around the house ourselves.” So the horse, donkey, goats and sheep were kept in the lower pasture all weekend while we literally collapsed on the spare mattress in front of the fire from Friday through Monday. Any other time, sleeping in front of a fire would be a romantic way to spend a weekend. Instead, it was like a dose of comfort.
Neither one of us had the energy or desire to cook. We could have starved. Fortunately, I had some leftover meatloaf and spaghetti in the refrigerator, and our chickens produce eggs no matter how we feel; all I had to do was summon up enough energy to get myself out to the hay barn and collect them. So we ate a lot of fried-egg sandwiches, drank lots of water and orange juice and stared at the boob tube.
I knew my S.O. wasn’t faking it because on Tuesday, the long-awaited parts for a Model ‘A’ engine he’s been rebuilding finally arrived, and all he could manage throughout the weekend was to drag himself out to the garage a couple times, ogle the parts and then a couple of minutes later come shuffling back in, lay back down with me and say, “Where’s the clicker?”
There we were – a couple of sickies barely able to take care of ourselves. We had no desire, only wishful thinking that our miserable weekend would soon be over.
When I woke up Monday morning I knew I was in for another rough day because I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I couldn’t concentrate on my work, my eyes bothered me and I noticed I have been very irritable since I began taking my medication. Also, I’ve discovered my brain takes a vacation in the freeze zone, totally still and unoccupied by a worthwhile thought.
Maybe this would be a good time to work on my taxes. If something doesn’t add up right, I’ll blame it on the therapy. .
