Yesterday afternoon, Craig received a call from our good friend who's husband is out of town. There were critters "the size of a cat" in her window wells and she wanted our ideas on how to get them out. She called animal control, but was told that they wouldn't help because the creatures weren't hurting anything, so we went over to help. There were 3 medium size animals in her window wells. After assessing the situation, and laughing hysterically at Craig (he came out of the garage brandishing a tennis racket and a fishing net) we were able to scoop them out with the assistance of the fishing net and flag pole (not the tennis racket). We let them go in the field adjacent their property. One of them was injured, which made me very sad. I was afraid that I hurt the poor thing when I pushed him into the net with the pole, but Craig figures that the injury most likely happened in the fall. Either way, I felt so bad for the poor little thing. They were scared little creatures (though not very attractive) and this one couldn't run to safety. Anyway, we couldn't quite figure out what they were, so we googled muskrats and river rats to compare pictures. I also emailed a friend of mine who is a biologist, and he said that they are most likely muskrats (SF was right).
I have been having the strangest dreams recently. I've always been a dreamer, and usually remember them, but lately they have been more intense, and very, very strange (much worse than usual). It finally occurred to me that it's probably the medication I'm on to control my heart rate that is causing these sudden "doo de doo de" dreams. Sometimes, though, they are fun dreams that make me laugh or feel very happy. Last night I dreamt that Murray was crawling and we were all laughing and cheering him on. These are the dreams that I enjoy. The others, well, they are sad, and leave me feeling empty. The sad dreams are so real that it's almost impossible to go back to sleep at night.
Today I called in a tracing from my heart monitor and was told that my heart rate was 140 bpm. The nurse who took my call was concerned, and I laughed and said that 140 bpm is rather slow for me, so I wasn't concerned. When I have major episodes, the rate is usually around 200 bpm, so this was minor. Anyway, I'm looking forward to my appointment today. The medication has really made a difference, so maybe he'll just decide I can be on meds and not have surgery again.
I've been feeling unorganized again. I am very behind on paperwork. I've been carrying it all around in a paper grocery bag with one handle, thinking I'll get to it. I have a closet full of more appropriate bags and/or folders that I could use, but for some reason, I just haven't made the switch. I'm sure I look ridiculous. My goal is to get to it finally, this afternoon, but I've been saying that for well over a week. In addition to paperwork, both cars are disaster areas. Craig is always shaking his head at me, because I'm very particular about the cleanliness of the house, but the cars are usually pig pens (which drives him crazy). Even if I clean them out once a week, it only takes a day or two for me to mess them up again.
Okay enough procrastinating. I'm off to tackle some of that paperwork. Oh shoot, scratch that. I left my paper bag in the car. :)