My friend Skip-to-my-Lu is on her way from Flin Flon, and I expect her little red wagon (she drives a bright red truck) to pull into my driveway in a couple hours. I've just gotten out of bed (11 a.m.), having been up before 7, drank a cup of coffee, faced the fact that my "cloudy" neck (as Virginia Woolf might have described the early symptoms of a migraine) wasn't going away on its own, downed a Gravol and an anti-inflammatory, and gone back to sleep.
I smacked what I assumed was a mosquito on my upper back last night, and got stung. While at Shelly's a wasp stung my shin when I unknowingly disturbed its nest, and the area swelled up, as did my ankle, and stayed that way for about three days. Last night I came into the house and took an antihistamine right away, in hopes that the same wouldn't happen to my hand. It hasn't so far but I must remember not to scratch the spot, which seems to be what started the swelling last time.
And now ... with a freshly brewed coffee in one hand, deadheading clippers in the other, and my fluffy bright green housecoat on my back, I am going to the front yard to commune with the flowers. And will practise not smacking any insects unless I can see them and know for sure what they are.
P.S.
Aunt Reta, I got your message and will give you a shout after my company has left, tomorrow or Monday.
