This weekend was due to be almost entirely taken up with cleaning. I had the best intentions of ridding the house of all the dust and dirt and bits of building material left after the builders had finished the kitchen. I would clear the last of the stuff temporarily stored upstairs by either finding new homes for it in the mass of cupboard space I now have, or getting rid of it as unnecessary clutter. There would be shiny surfaces, clean carpets, sweet smelling rooms and copious amounts of tidiness and order.
All good plans come apart at first contact with the enemy, so the military saying goes. In this case, the enemy was a small bug that decided to strike just after I’d donated blood on Thursday. By Friday morning I was aching and by Friday evening, I knew the weekend would be a washout.
‘Excuse’, I hear you shout. To be honest, on Saturday you could have shouted anything at all and I wouldn’t have cared. Even Rufus got the message early on, probably when we went back for a longer than usual lie-in after he’d been on garden patrol at 5.30am. Rather than bother me for a walk, which he often does if one isn’t forthcoming by 10am, he lay with me on the sofa or kept guard on the house while I dozed. He contented himself with visits to the garden instead.
The rain stopped in the evening and I ventured out with him for a short circular walk around the block and fair play to him, he didn’t pull on the lead or rush me. By the time I got home, I was shattered and very hot and I was in bed within about 15 minutes.
The only thing I like about illness with fever is the weird dreams I always get. Usually, I have several short, surreal adventures during a disturbed night. I did this weekend but can’t remember all of them. The one I do remember was being in the middle of a vast, hot plain and barely visible in the distance was someone who was chasing me. They were so far away it would have taken them hours to get to me even if I stayed where I was. But I could see them plainly and ever time they started off towards me, I’d start off away from them. But while they were walking in the flat ground, I was climbing steps on what seemed to be a huge ruined building made of stone.
This morning I was feeling a lot better and the sun was out. Another lie-in ensured that all was on for an early trip out to Cefn Bryn and although we drove beneath dark clouds and through a downpour, it was beautifully clear and fairly warm on the common. I really did stroll today, taking an easy pace while allowing Rufus to wander far and wide. The last few times I’ve been on the common there have been many birds chattering away on the the bushes, teasing us to get closer before flying away at the last minute. Anticipating them today, I was able to get some nice photos, along with some spectacular photos of the storm clouds that were dropping their loads over Swansea.
On the way back to the car I heard a familiar call from above and there was a buzzard circling around, rising higher and higher on the thermals in a manner as lazy as my pace. In the space of a few minutes, it went from being a hundred feet or so above me to a barely visible dot in the bright sky.
Back home, I still wasn’t up to doing much cleaning but I did manage to find homes for more junk from upstairs.
franticsmurf 