A Bad Day to Remember

When I woke up this morning, I felt off first thing. The weather was horrible. Drizzly and muggy, my least favorite thing about living in western Washington is the "not-rain" that accomplishes nothing but annoying me. To pair nicely with the dismal weather, it's almost that time of the month again.  My body must be ragingly unhappy with me because, ahead of schedule, it is already making me miserable.
 I kept thinking all day: you really should have just stayed in bed.

I'm sure the ladies know what I'm talking about but for the (rare, maybe?) male reading this, who is uncomfortable with hearing mention of womanly things; would you really rather be oblivious? I think its better if I am open, blunt and honest about what we all go through, same as I am with most things. If you at least sort of understand what is happening and why you have a much better chance of coming out of things ahead. 

Forgive me if this get rambly I'm firing on half cylinders at best folks.

The base of the soup: onion, leek, carrot and potato.

The day didn't start out that bad. I picked a nice pile of peas, beans, tomatillos and a few sad tomatoes and even made a yummy potato soup that I will share the recipe for soon. But as the day progressed, I felt worse and worse. I actually seriously considered the possibility that I was coming down with the flu. I should know better than that. This is definitely one of my worst times yet but it is clearly not a flu. For whatever reason, my pelvis feels like it's slowly being broke in half along with general crumminess like, well, the worst flu. 




As the day drug on like a half dead actor in the dessert, I realized I would have to make another trip out to the chickens to close them in for the night. Sometimes things get better for me around bed so I held off for as long as I could, but it only got worse. The chickens are a good half mile (there and back) from the stables, where our apartment is. It's not that far at all when your body isn't trying to punish you for not being pregnant. 
I seriously contemplated just leaving the coop open. I couldn't do that, I wasn't dead yet and pain never killed anyone so I got Cal up and we started out for the chickens , very very slowly. 

You have to understand, I have been doing this almost every night since we got the chickens. One of the barn cats, who is never interested in being touched and mostly just races circles around me, started following us to the chickens. I thought she would turn around by the time we got to the pond and at one point I thought she had, but no, she came all the way with us, there and back. At no other time, day or night, has she ever followed me anywhere outside the barn. 

 
Sometimes, animals can understand what you need better than any human. I will never look at that cat the same again. I am thankful for the blessing of company on a dark walk and a reminder that god works in mysterious ways.



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