I did not have a good night last night. I woke up numerous times. Every time I laid my head on the pillows and drifted off, I felt like throwing up. I would then sit up until the feeling subsided. This went on for a long while. Eventually, I piled the pillows higher and slept, half sitting, my head much higher than the rest of my body. This seemed to work.
When I woke at 5 as usual, I felt like I hadn’t slept. I also felt very queasy. Regardless, I let the dogs out then made myself a coffee. Then, also as usual, I started writing my blog post for yesterday.
I wrote two sentences, then decided I was not well enough to write anything. I deleted the two sentences, closed the laptop and went back to sleep. Though, before I did, I set the alarm for 8am given Harald and Roger were coming back this morning, and I’d have to unlock the house. Which I did, before heading back to bed, still feeling awful.
Eventually, Harald woke me up, knocking at the door, wanting to know what colour to paint something. I must have looked an awful sight. Still, Harald being Harald, he didn’t mention it. He did mention that they should be finished by Wednesday, which cheered me up considerably.
It seemed a bit pointless going back to bed at that point so I made another coffee while the dogs pestered me for a walk. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them we will go after lunch, they rarely get the idea. Which is interesting given two of the words they recognise are ‘walk’ and ‘lunch’. And they have never had both together.
So, eventually, we headed up to the woods for a rather slow and painstaking climb of Mount Trosa. It was only slow and painstaking for me. The girls raced up, as usual.
Back at home, I collapsed onto the lounge, exhausted. Pathetic old man that I am.
Anyway, now for something a lot more pleasant.
Here is a photo of Mirinda in her official archaeological dig, flouro vest.
Funnily enough, with all the digs I’ve ever been on, and there have been many, I have never been given one of these.
