I’ve been battling some horrible gastroenteritis since Monday evening. This morning, I woke up long enough to open the pasture gate to let the sheep out to graze, feed SwampMan’s rabbits, feed SwampMan’s dog, feed SwampMan’s turkey (are we seeing a trend here?) and then back to the house for a sip of Sprite and more nausea. I NEVER want another drink of Sprite. EVER.
SwampMan came in and asked me why I had the fan on while I was covered with blankets and shivering from the cold. “Nausea”, I groaned weakly.
“Well, is there anything I can get to make you feel better?”
“Yeah, if you’re going out, I’d like something really, really salty. Potato chips, I think.”
I eventually turned the fan off when I was too cold to feel nausea and dozed off. I woke, wondered if I had any chips yet, read for awhile, then back to sleep. I couldn’t seem to wake up enough to get the chickens fed.
I woke up to “HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK” over and over again in front of our house, then BOOM!
I jumped up and ran to SwampMan. “What’s THAT?”
“The explosion and honking in front of our house?”
“Oh, I dunno.” He kept playing his computer game.
“You haven’t even looked?”
“No, why should I?”
I opened the blinds and looked out the front window just as a another “BOOM!” shook the house, and a ball of flame poofed skyward over the trees.
“Because there’s explosions and fire in the woods directly in front of our HOUSE? It could be a wreck with people burning up!”
SwampMan allowed that that might be worthy of investigation, so he ambled out. I was worried that our neighbors were exploding and roasting right there in front of our house, but I still stopped to pull on a pair of clean jeans and shirt before stepping outside. Then I went back inside to brush my hair. I walked as far as our gate and saw that neighbors had gathered along the road, concerned but not excited, along with a line of stopped vehicles. I leaned on the gate. If it was a real emergency involving lives, people would be running about with purpose and tools and yelling orders to each other. This was more of a “well, wouldja look at that!” kinda gathering.
SwampMan strolled back in about half hour to let me know that one of the neighbors from further down was just driving down the road, minding his own business, when he started noticing a burning odor. Then smoke started rising from the floorboard. He pulled over, and was trying to put out the fire with a floor mat, but the flames were high enough at that point to burn his hands, and he jumped clear. Good thing.
“Dang!” I said. “What kinda truck?”
“One that’s all exploded and burned!” SwampMan replied.
Well, that was helpful.
“You know, I was just about to go to the store and get you some tater chips!” he said. “I’ll go ahead and get a shower and change.”
*sigh* I had wanted the tater chips six hours ago.