Yesterday, I almost didn't go to work because I woke up with a very bad headache. Very bad. And some nausea... I decided if I had to pull over to vomit, I'd call in sick then, before I actually turned the car around to head home. Made it to work. My supervisor recognized "not a good morning" and acknowledged it. I made it through the day.
Well, this morning, I woke up to the 8 AM alarm (just a bare 3 hours later than on week-days) with a demon inside my head, playing with my inside gyroscope and doing something just terrible in my gut. The top of my head felt pulpy - not to actual touch, but I kept touching it to make sure it WASN'T pulpy like it felt. Light hurt. Lovely - a freakin' migraine. And an hour until that contractor guy was scheduled to arrive, which would normally be a nice event. I'm gonna have to tell him I can't "assist" him, and stay inside in the cool, dim house.
Oh, yah, and I have to look for the bunnies.
Well, one of the baby rabbits was sitting in the hutch, drinking from the fresh water bottle I'd put up the previous night, even though there weren't any bunnies in it at the time. A little girl bunny, she scooted out and around me, loping JUST ahead of me - not all that fast but literally an inch ahead of my fingers the entire length of the porch. And off it, across the side yard past some chickens, down the driveway and across onto one of the terraces. A few minutes later, I saw a second youngster sitting in a sunny spot. I added baby carrots to the food dish in the bottom of the hutch as a lure. Especially since that little bunny girl had come back to the hutch on her own.
Two or three more times throughout the day, one or the other of those two rabbits would amble across from one side of the yard to the other. Right past chickens. The chickens showed some interest, but not much. I'm guessing they'd already made their introductions during those the 13 hours I was away from the house on Thursday and Friday. <*she said, wryly.*>
John showed up about 9:30 and I warned him I had a very bad headache and might not be much of a "helper" today. He had aspirin, offering some to me. He also had a container of the soup he'd made, which happened to be chicken noodle & lots and lots of vegetables. "Here - this is proof I really do cook. Oh, I could just be one of those people who claims they cook, but don't really make things from scratch, but now you know I do cook."
"Oh, I'm really urpy, and I wouldn't want to lose any of something so special."
"Well," he said, "If you lose it, it wasn't very special. If you don't, then it's the best soup you've ever tasted, good for breakfast or lunch."
I put it in the refrigerator for later, after my stomach wasn't so touchy about bright light, loud noises and movement. Lateral movement was bad enough, but any change in the vertical, or of altitude, and I felt urpy. Not a good helper at all.
He got to work unloading equipment and staging tools and materials. I sat on the stoop, shading my eyes from the sun, but appreciating the warmth from sitting in it. After a while, I felt okay enough to want a second cup of coffee (I'd already consumed one cup upon rising, which had come up shortly afterward). "John, I'm going to go make myself a cup of coffee - would you like one?" He accepted the offer.
When I came back with both cups, he said, "That quick?" So I explained I use a Keurig coffee maker, which brews coffee a cup at a time. "Ah, always a fresh cup then! Nice." He took a sip, made an appreciative face, and went back to work.
After a bit, talking briefly about the escaped rabbits, the over-turned auto-waterer, and watching George go through a full-fledged, all out attack on John's boot, I felt well enough to stand up and lean against one of the deck posts to interact in actual construction-type conversations. True, these exchanges were more along the size of "What's that?" and the answers, or responding to "What do you think of this?" questions, but they required actual, cognitive thought. I got better at it after a time. Well enough to want to try a bowl of soup.
Which I savored. In a bowl decorated like a chicken, with head and tail-feather projections to hold it with more stability. It was wonderful. So I said so, between spoons of it. He proceeded to tell me its ingredients - including the stock and seasonings and the noodles he'd made himself - and how they were utilized. And what he sometimes changed.
It was impressive. Might even be more so if I knew exactly what cumin does and why it matters in what order one puts something into a .... well, anything one cooks from scratch. But apparently the chopped garlic has to be added at this time, but the whole Brussels spouts, or the sliced mushrooms, or the peas and corn at a different time..... and when do the noodles go in?
Anyway, it was truly a great soup. Before too long, I was able to offer marginally more assistance. Plus, my prescription medications stayed down, too.
The deck now has trusses and posts for the railing and overhead cover have been cut to size and placed. In the case of the three posts attached to the concrete footings, placed twice. The second time was after the trusses had been set.. Y'see, the Magic String showed us exactly where those posts needed to be cut to be exactly the same height within a 32nd of an inch. In order to get the BEST and cleanest cut, John decided to remove and cut 'em with his bench circular saw. Otherwise, he'd have to get on a ladder, hold the small circular saw sideways and up in the air to make the cuts. So he removed the twenty-bazillion screws from each post, cut it, put it back, matched all the screws to the same holes and re-installed 'em. Having marked them where they abutted the lateral boards, we levered the deck frame up with two boards previously used as concrete post forms and a shovel. "Fulcrum," I said, smugly, "and lever," pointing to each, to prove I knew something already.
However, later, I was corrected for using the word "level" when USING the level to determine if an upright object was also inside the bubble. "That's "plumb." Flat this way is "level" and this is "plumb." Do you know where that comes from?"
"Um, it relates to the drop of the plum-bob, right?"
"Very good. But you can't keep calling plumb "level" and expect to earn respect from all the other construction workers."
All righty then. I will remember that.
The reason you don't see any chickens in the photos is because I put up a Tether Cabbage to distract them for part of the day.
Sunday is obviously a day during which many, many people do not wish to work. Especially this particular Sunday. My contractor is "taking the day off" and will return on Monday to install the truss braces, lay the deck boards, and get started on the cover and railings.
The two bunnies I saw throughout the day - and which John would point out when he saw one - returned to the hutch and even got up into its second level. I closed the bottom gate and latched it with the carabiner I bought yesterday. Two down, only six more to go.
As I exited my driveway for a dog food run, my next door neighbor Carl Jr pulled up in his pick-up to talk to me. He wanted to let me know the reason HE had attended the special meeting at the Retiree's house was to ensure nobody said, "Carl said this, Carl said that." I reassured him I totally understood the roosters were disturbing him and his father. "Yes, but you got rid of some of them and I'd noticed it was already quieter." Next to him, his son said something to him. "Oh! Do you have a rabbit?"
They saw one in their yard, at first mistaking it for a cat. "That's the most messed up cat I've ever seen," he said he'd thought. Then it hopped away and they knew it was a rabbit. But what kind? And does Linda have a rabbit?
I 'splained about the Mass Lionhead Bunny Escape. So, they'll try to catch any they find in their yard.
Lizbeth now has full run of the house. She returns to the guest room even when the two dogs are up on the day bed. She's very affectionate. She still goes to sleep in the wicker cat bed, still uses the litter box in the guest room, and there's been no drama today.
In the early evening before dusk, quite a few chickens discovered the deck joist boards. It was Chicken Headquarters on those boards for some time. They also discovered they could crane their necks to see in through the French door window panels. Lizbeth sat there to watch them watching her for quite some time.
Tomorrow I'm going wabbit hunting in earnest.