Today has not been one of my better days.
This afternoon I was hit by a sudden fever that went to 103°F and stayed there, except for that one spike to 105°F. I should have had my happy ass hauled off to the hospital, but stubborn pride once again won out. That, and the fact I didn’t know where I was most of the evening. I finally got up enough strength to crawl out of my recliner where I’d been trapped most of the day and went to bed. Then this hellatious fever broke. Finally. Now, of course, I’m wide awake and my side of the bed is too wet with sweat to sleep on anyway. Seems like a good time to post something on this blog that I’ve ignored so much of late.
You know, when you have one of those really bitchin’ fevers so many different things pass through your tortured mind. Most thoughts are twisted out of proper form due to the fact your brain is beginning to boil in its own juices. Others come through with total clarity. I’ve wondered before if perhaps many of the breakthrough ideas in history were perhaps the result of a really good fever. No doubt many of the horrors that have been unleashed upon Mankind were the result of fevered, twisted minds given loose reins. Anyhoo, I thought I’d give y’all a rundown of a few of those fevered thoughts that I can recall. Soon enough they will fade from memory…
For some reason I kept going back – in my mind – to my reloading bench and the latest loads I made for my .45 Colts. Everytime I had to smile. I’m hoping that means these things are going to be as good as I hope. The load is a 270 grain Penn “Thunderhead” bullet over 17.7 grains of IMR 4227 powder, Starline brass and CCI 300 primers. Those bullets are sized to .452 and have a .443 meplat. They look like oil barrels! Go here for a look-see. If they shoot well out of the Ruger I’ll give ‘em a try in the Winchester, though methinks there may be some feeding issues with that big flat front end. We shall see.
In my fevered state I managed to really confuse my five year old daughter. One of my dearest friends, (and long-term love), Luminous Lizard has a daughter with the same name. Except that her daughter is much older. This friend also has a Great Dane named “LeLu”. I kept asking my daughter if “LeLu” had been out to go potty. My daughter has never met “LeLu” and had no idea what I was talking about. She was a good sport about it though. She just went and let our Danes out. A great kid, that one.
I recall thinking for a moment that my Blood Python, “Sanguine”, was wrapped gently around my shoulders and was whispering words of Wisdom in my ear. I swear, I could feel her cool forked tongue lightly caressing my earlobe even though I know she never left her enclosure. I recall clearly what she had to say, besides the fact she is hungry, but I wrote that down elsewhere and will not post those words here.
Apparently when one has a fever that high and for that long one becomes rather open to suggestion. Sort of like when you are on a LSD trip. The twins, known around here as “The Brothers” came bounding into the living room playing with toy helicopters. I swear, for a moment I was back in a chopper. I felt the ‘thump’ of the rotors and the wind in my face coming through the open door. Twenty plus years have gone since I last rode in one. Save for a tem minute flight at a County Fair with my older daughters when they were small. Amazing what is hidden deep in your mind just waiting for the chance to come to the surface.
I recalled sessions with a Councilor at the V.A. in Salem, Virginia. I had been diagnosed for the first time with PTSD and felt that what I needed more than yet another bloody pill was just someone to talk to about things. It worked, of course. I thought of her and every one that has filled that roll for me since. Lady Beth has now filled that roll on a permanent basis. Strangely, they have all been women. Well, perhaps not-so strangely considering my Life. I swear, I should write a book!
Nah. No one would believe it except those women that were there.
That led my mind on a long list of names of friends that I miss. Most are simply far away, others are seperated from me by choice – theirs, not mine. Others have passed through the Veil to what awaits. Gods! How I miss them all! Mike Bottoms, Tim Evatt, Tracy &, Ronnie, Jenny, Patty, AmyLyn &, Charles, Peter &, Chelle, The Wolf Clan, Dan, Liz, Melody &, James, Cathy, Natalie, Lord Serpent, Rhiannon, Fairy Glen, The CLB, Todd Story, Tom Harbin, “Mad” Jack Partoch… Oh! The list is so long!
I would that those that have chosen to set friendship aside, for whatever reason, would reconsider. The one thing that is certain is that nothing is certain. We may not have tomorrow and I don’t care to pass through the Veil without the love of friends. Besides, I would like for them to see that I have something I’ve never had before. Someone that loves me and doesn’t have to leave me alone to go home. For the first time, there is one that loves me without having to share that love. I am complete.
Thunder rolled through the sky. Or, it did in my mind at least. It sounded for once like it did back home when the thunder would rumble through the mountain passes and deep into the hollows. That gave me thoughts of Summer in the Mountains followed quickly by the cool nights of Fall. For a few precious minutes I was whole once more. Strong of spine and limb, a small pack on my back and a longrifle in hand. Walking along the ridgelines on a cool Autumn day. Seeing, but barely hearing, the whitewater of a fast moving stream far below. I spent much of my younger years doing that whenever I could. It always came so easily that I felt that it wasn’t the first lifetime so spent. What I wouldn’t give for just one more such walk with moccasins on my feet and my flintlock in my hand. I was born out of season. There can never be perfect peace for one so born.
My eldest daughter came in from work, (she works at a local nursing home when she is not at school working on her Nursing degree), and I saw two of her. One was the sweet, quiet-voiced, little girl with bad eyesight. The other was the grown woman of her future, working daily saving lives, and knowing her, more than one soul. I am so very proud of this woman that is my daughter.
Through the haze of my tortured brain there was one clear light – my wife. The woman is so beautiful. She fears that she is not as appealling to me as she was when we first met. She has nothing to fear! I have never been as lost in love as I am with her. Her voice is like a clear ringing bell for me. Her face is like the starlight, piercing my soul. Yes, time changes us all. It has grown my love for Lady Beth beyond all bounds!
There is more. Much more. I am tired though. Right to the bone. Perhaps the bed has dried enough to sleep. I could use it. Sickness simply sucks.
Bull, out.
