Camping in the Meadow

I may have mentioned that I am suffering from The Black Death, otherwise known as a Raging Sinus Infection and Chest Cold Combo With a Side of COUGH. I really can’t remember if I shared that with you, because cold medications burn up memory cells like they’re jet fuel.

And then they leave me a bit shaky and disoriented and walking around my house wondering which one of us is the culprit who manages to clog the bathroom drains up with ALL THE HAIR.

(Like I don’t know the answer to that already, because Hubs reminds me of the answer daily.)

(“Good grief!  You shed hair like a cat with mange!  I’m going to be dragging around a bald wife while I’m still in my prime, if you don’t slow this aging process down, Nancy!” )

(Early on in our marriage, Hubs was blessed with the spiritual gift of flattering me with all of his poetic words.)

Anyway, I crawled into bed last night and announced to Hubs, “I can’t sleep!  All I do is cough!  Cough!  Cough!”  And Hubs insisted that I really haven’t slept decently for the last six years, and that it has nothing to do with the current coughing status quo.  And, people, I think Hubs is right.  I think that I am what you might refer to as a HIGH MAINTENANCE SLEEPER.  Yesteryear, I used to be able to crawl into the bed and it was all LIGHTS OUT and MAMA NEEDS A NAP THAT’S GONNA LAST HER EIGHT SOLID HOURS SO JUST LOOK OUT, but I think my hormones got all skewed sideways in the aging process.  Now I crawl into bed, and my mind kicks itself into high-speed overdrive, where I like to mentally hash out everything from our family’s finances, to the possibility of putting Cat 1 on medication for her nasty social behavior, to listing everything I need the following day at the grocery store when it is 2:00 IN THE MORNING HOURS.

Surely you can imagine the depth of Hubs’ excitement over this, because sometimes I’ll just roll right over and whisper, “Do you think putting the cat on Prozac is a wise move as pet owners?” when it’s still dark enough outside that the donut makers have not even thought about heading into work yet.  That’s about the exact same time that Hubs barks, “If I had it to do all over again, YES!  I would still pick you, but I would have my own bedroom so I can sleep at night without a conversation about cats mid-morning!”

So last night, I was convinced that perhaps (JUST PERHAPS!) I would benefit from a noise machine.  I told Hubs, “Can you turn your iPad into a white-noise maker for me?  Can you get me a gentle rainfall?”

Hubs looked at that like the White Glove of Challenge had been thrown down, and within 2-point-3 minutes, he had downloaded an app and we were in the business of BEAUTIFUL BACKGROUND NOISES TO CREATE CONDUCIVE SLEEPING ENVIRONMENTS.

So Hubs scrolled through them.  I liked the gentle rainfall, but then Hubs switched things to the thunderstorm.  I said, “Listen!  I hate thunder to begin with, and tend to pace the house with all the thundering, so let’s stop that one right now.”

The next background noise was a crackling fire with insects whining in the background, like I was sleeping IN THE GREAT OUT OF DOORS, right in the middle of ALL THINGS NATURE-Y.  I immediately told Hubs, “This isn’t going to work, because pretty soon I’m going to begin having an olfactory hallucination, where I actually SMELL THE CAMPFIRE SMOKE, and I just want to slap the mosquitoes that I hear buzzing behind me, and then you know I’m going to pop up and ask ‘WAS THAT A BEAR?  BECAUSE IT SOUNDED LIKE IT COULD BE A BEAR’!”

And Hubs looked at me and asked, “Who uses the word olfactory in a conversation?  Because normal people don’t, honey.”

So then we were on to the gentle rhythm of the train on the tracks.  I’ve never actually ridden a train, but I made Hubs close that sound out all together, because my ISSUES WITH THE MOTION SICKNESS are far, far, FAAARRRRRR greater than my sleep issues.  I knew that if I was hearing the clickety-clack of the train wheels on the tracks, that I was more than likely hanging my head out the window, releasing my last meal in a shower of goo and gunk, so that it flew in a steady stream along the passengers’ windows.

(At least I would have saved them the cost of a pricey, ON-BOARD luncheon!)

And then there was the ocean waves, but I told Hubs, “Um… No.  I just want to run and frolic; I don’t want to sleep with the ocean waves in the background, and I’m a bit worried about a sunburn and the lifeguard yelling, ‘GET OUT OF THE WATER!  GET OUT OF THE WATER!  SHARK FIN!!'”

So then there was the fan.

That was a no-go, because it sounded exactly like a fan with a broken blade, and all I could think was WELL SOMEONE HAD BETTER GET OUT OF BED AND UNPLUG THAT THING, AND LET HUBS KNOW THAT THE BLADE IS BROKEN, BEFORE A KID STICKS HIS FINGER IN THERE AND CHOPS IT OFF.  And that, people, is a lot like worrying about pet medication and whether we actually NEED ketchup at the grocery store the following day, or whether we can make do with the smidgen we have left in the middle of the night, instead of sleeping.

So the final sound was the soft meadow sound.  Crickets chirping OH SO VERY QUIETLY in the background and wind blowing softly through the treetops.


I told Hubs, “I love THIS one!”  And so he left it on, and sweet mercy, but all the crickets going to town with their singing, and all the gentle breezes blowing made me TIRED!  SO VERY TIRED!

Hubs let the meadow sounds go on and on, while he read up on Tebow’s greatness, and Matt Duechene’s goodness, and the Denver Broncos’ overall amazingness, and the Avalanche’s killer stealth, and then BLAM!

Just like that, the crickets were squashed, and the breeze stopped, because Hubs had plugged his headphones into the iPad to listen to some talk radio show about YES, I SAW THE MOTHERSHIP ONCE, AND THE ALIENS EVEN TOOK ME ABOARD THAT TIME I WAS VISITING MY GRANDMOTHER IN ARKANSAS.

That was the end of the white-noise machine, and my hopes of getting to sleep were dashed like someone had sprayed insecticide over the meadow and killed all the crickets DEAD.

But because Hubs was sound asleep some twelve seconds later, I’ve decided that all I need is a decently-boring talk radio program to listen to tonight.

Here’s hoping that I can beat the cough and get some rest, while I hear some guy in overalls from the woods talk about HOW THEY HAD FEELERS ON THEIR HEADS! And also HOW THEIR EYES GLOWED BLUE FIRE!

Happy Thursday night, people.

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