Sidelined

My back had been troubling me all week, but ignoring the problem seemed to be working fine.  Before heading to work Thursday morning I was drawing water up from the well to water the garden when it felt like someone shot me with a 9mm in the hip. 
I've had back issues before where I'd been stuck in bed and my husband had to carry me in a prone position to the chiropractor.  So, I thought that this was simply a pinched nerve and what I had to do was keep moving and the nerve would unwedge itself and all would be OK again.  I shuffled around doing my chores, cursing and crying. I kept crying because every time I turned around I found damage caused by furry creatures.

Overnight, the chipmunks had eaten off the tops of all the newly planted sweet potato plants.  The sweet potato plants ordered months ago, waited on and finally arriving only Tuesday. The chipmunks' feasting wasn't limited to these, they had also eaten every single lima bean that dared to sprout.  My usual 2 gallons of harvested dried beans are not to be this year. Do you realize how many groceries I will have to actually buy this year?  Oh, this is WAR. Fur will fly.  Can you buy dynamite on Ebay?

Teetering out the drive to the chicken coop, I found Morel had her head stuck in my fence.  Darling, precious Morel had eaten an entire side of a cherished antique rose that had been full of buds on the brink of blooming.

Out in the pasture, what did I behold?

Tommy had attacked the coop during the night.  Bovine sized piñata. Torn tarps, broken clips, aaaaargh!
 I managed to get into the chicken coop to take care of the girls and then couldn't get back out.  I spent ten minutes in there scaring the hens with my bawling.  Surrender.  If I could make it out, I promised myself I'd go straight to my chiropractor.  I got out, but couldn't get into my car. 
OK, Plan B:  Reschedule work not to lose any income and root through the medicine cabinet for some relief. 

One lousy 6 year old muscle relaxer tablet is all I could come up with.  Better than nothing.  As I tried to cut it in half, it disintegrated.  Half fell onto the carpet, but I was able to lick the other half of the counter. ________________ fill in the blanks with something that would make a soldier blush. 

A few hours later, after laying on a bed of ice packs, I felt a little better.  I still couldn't reach down to put socks on.  But, with a couple pairs of kitchen tongs, McGyver got her loafing socks on. Progress is good.

I'd be making a fashion faux pas, but I could now get dressed to go to the chiropractor.  If only I could get in the car...not... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

Late afternoon was absolutely gorgeous outside.  Probably our last beautiful day for a long time.  Heat advisories forecasted for the next five days.
My neighbor had brought me prescription strength anti-inflammatories, I was feeling upbeat. Somehow, I was going to make my day productive and enjoyable.  Resting in bed would have benefited the body, but the spirit needs tending too.  Being outside, with the hummingbirds buzzing me, the breeze on my face, the mockingbird's overtures, the horses waiting for me at my gate, now that bolsters the spirit!

I managed to extend electric fencing to the chicken coop.  Tommy, literally, knock yourself out, buddy!

I could now get down on my hands and knees and crawl around.  Cole senses when things are amiss and he becomes very protective. He won't leave me for a minute.  Even in the smallest room of the house, he sits at my feet and stares at me:  "You OK?".  Unnerving, but sweet. His shadowing made it possible for me raise myself when a post or tree wasn't handy. He let me use his shoulders to pull myself up. I love that kid.  We did some weeding and I covered the guillotined sweet potato stubs with mesh.  They may not grow back, but who knows!

By evening, the Celebrex gave me enough mobility to fold myself into the car. The dogs and I went for a test drive.  Could I manage the stick shift?  Not gracefully, however I did get to the coffee shop to collect my 2 gallons of organic milk.  Our agreement is that I get it out of their coolers ASAP on Thursdays.  I wasn't going to renege on my promise and lose my dairy privileges.  A big mug of hot cocoa was my rewards for bringin' home the milk.

This is what greeted me when I returned from town.

Toads sitting atop fresh manure, thinking they got it made in the shade, lunch would be flying in soon.  That's my day in a nutshell:  up to my eyeballs in poop, but good things are always there, if I keep my eyes peeled.