I'm always so shocked when I get sick. I don't get sick that much, so on Friday when I suddenly felt ill, I ignored it. By the time I went to the barn to do nightly feedings, my entire body was shaking, and my teeth were chattering. The animals were not sure what to make of my groans, but I made it through chores so I could land on the couch. By Sunday, I was pretty sick, and had a 101+ fever.
And why is it, when you get a fever, that is the day the goats get out of the new fence you spent hours and money to put up just last week? And of course they took the rams with them. So with your fever, and a broken rake, you 'encourage' the rams to go up the road. It all works out, but with a fever, even a 10 minute goat round-up can kill a person.
I tried to help Martyn with the new fence, but after 10 minutes, admitted defeat. I was useless, and didn't feel right at all. Back in the house my fever was over 101, so I slept. Later in the day, uncomfortable in bed, I carried a blanket out to a bench in the orchard, with the donkeys grazing around me. I have rarely had a day since moving to the farm where I just rested.
As the sun went down, I retreated in, feeling slightly better, and had a cup of tea in the studio, communing with the horse outside the door. Earlier this week, Martyn added an extension off Boone's pasture, so he can walk right up to one of my studio doors. He knickers outside the window sometimes, knowing I'm there, hoping for apples.
