Mama used to tell me that bad things come in threes and then they are gone. Not so, or not for me this weekend anyway. Saturday night I put a chicken in the crock pot so I could get up Sunday morning before Facebook church and make said fowl into a luscious pot pie. I wanted to sit and actually watch the church service even though the coronavirus prevented my going. Then I went to bed, carefully setting the alarm for 7:30 a.m. Every time Nature called me during the night, I could smell the lovely aroma of chicken cooking. I nearly sprained my shoulder patting myself on the back for being so efficient and then back to bed I’d go. At 5:30, long before alarm time, I awoke to a monstrous headache. All the minor demons were pounding the backside of my eyeballs with sharp, heavy hammers and the inside of my head rang in response. Nearly tripping over a dog, I stumbled off to the bathroom for Tylenol. Back in bed, I lay there engulfed in pain. Consciously I tried to go back to sleep, but that rarely works. It didn’t work for me. When the alarm sounded, I turned it off and went back to bed. My head still ached, and I couldn’t convince myself to get up. No church for me. I did manage to turn off the crock pot before I finally fell asleep.
At 9:00 I got up and took more Tylenol. After a big cup of coffee, the headache started to fade. By 10:30 I was well enough to listen to the service on the radio as I put my pot pie together. I even managed to make banana bread during the service. Lunch was served.
After lunch I sat down to visit with my...