Like, I'm not even gonna try today to match up the words with the facial expressions. No tie ins. Just boom, here's a truckload of Johnny pictures.
Hey, guess what I've been doing all week? Whispering, coughing, and blowing my nose. Are you aware of just how much horrible snot can be produced by a human head? It's disgusting. Don't even get near me, I will infect you. I'm a festering germ bucket. I gross myself out. Yes I embarrass myself.
Y'see, first I had this Big Depression Problem, so I went to the doctor and he gave me some pills, so I took the pills that gave me a sick belly for two weeks. I didn't eat. I got weak, and lost weight the bad way. Then we went out west for a big little music awards shindig.
Blah blah blah. So we came home from the Big Party Weekend Plus Escape to the Mountains, Jethro went back to work and I did laundry for three days. Then last Saturday, my friend Susan and I hooked her trailer up to my truck, packed up all four of our kids, and took a two hour drive to pick up a horse.
Of course, it was raining when we started off. It would have to be, wouldn't it? I already had a sore throat, which I attributed to a bad combination of living like a rock star for a few days, plus yelling over the noise at parties, plus... airport germs. Yeesh. Add that to the loading of 18 bales of hay into the truck bed, and an hour's worth of convincing the horse into the trailer while Susan's baby cried and the rest of the kids ran around like they'd been stuck in the backseat of a truck for three hours.
I had no voice on the drive home. Ever try whispering over the drone of a 350 Chevy V8 for a couple hours? Ha. I know I'm sick because despite the throat thing, I thought the whole trip was FUN!
And the horse is pretty nice. I'll tell you about him later. He's not a keeper -- his owner will want him back next year -- but until then we've got another friend to play with.
And I guess this week, I've officially been A HORSE WHISPERER! hahahaha! Geez. Technically I spent Sunday, Monday and Tuesday in bed, hacking up yellow stuff, breathing through the flannel sheets, and trying to sweat the germs out. I had the dog at my feet and the cat at my head, breathing sleep all over me. I've been washing my hands like a freak, changing the sheets on the bed every two days, and smearing Vitamin E ointment on my poor little nostrils. I'm fortified by honey and lemon tea. I've gone through about four boxes of Kleenex, three bags of Ricola cough drops, and rinsed uncountable gobs of yuck down the drain. Oh boy, aren't you glad you stopped by here today???
When I finally got out to Susan's barn, I was glad I spent all those childhood years with my Daddy, learning how to spit like a farmer. I can spit from horseback clear across the corral.
I still don't have a voice. Just a ragged croak. But the good news is, um, if you can call this good, the stuff I'm coughing up isn't as colourful anymore! I think I'm getting better! Also I've managed to keep my germs to myself and nobody else is showing signs of getting sick. Relief.
There's more good news: all this lying around has resulted in a highly polished manuscript/ query letter/ synopsis combo which is itching to get sent to a nice literary agency in Toronto. They have no idea what they're in for. I promise to disinfect the paper before I stick it in the envelope...