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| "Now I lay me down to sleep..." |
...or, a night in the day of yours truly. Sleep is a precious commodity. REM (rapid eye movement) sleep is the time in which the body heals; it is also the time of dreaming. Every now and then somebody will say to me that they never dream. I always reply that if you never dreamed you'd be dead... you just don't remember your dreams. The human body requires REM time for daily maintenance and repairs; dreams are sort of a biproduct of brain repair.
There was a time when I slept a solid eight hours without waking; nowadays I'm not so fortunate in the sleep department; but, I've always had many dreams. Spiritual/prophetic dreams. Ho-hum dreams. Dreams of flying or climbing. And dreams where I'd wake myself up laughing. (I've never heard anyone else say they have these!) Now, I did dream a little bit last night but I don't remember the dream's content... it must've been one of those ho-hum dreams... What I do remember is a lot of the other nighttime occurances at the Ben-David ranch:
#1 The human burrito: My hubby has this incredible trick . He starts out with no covers - says he's warm enough. Then, when I settle in real good - maybe not yet asleep, but, comfortable. y'know?... he IS asleep, gets cool, and grasps a corner of the quilt and rolls himself up in it. Thus, the title, the human burrito. Oh, don't get me wrong. He doesn't mean to do it; he's asleep. There is really not a mean bone in his body - especially when it comes to me... But, I have learned to keep a spare blanket or quilt within reach. The human burrito cannot be unwrapped easily! So, I grab the extra covers. This, of course, involves moving my body, getting repositioned with the new, COLD blanket, reassuring the various animals that it is NOT mealtime - I repeat, it is NOT mealtime, and settling back in.
#2 The Itch: I had a broken neck some thirty years ago. Praise God there's not much residual damage. A sore neck most of the time, and a weakness of the right arm and hand, but I'm fairly used to that. But, recently, I started developing a new problem associated with bad neck injuries: Brachioradial Pruritis. What this means is that the nerve that ennervates the shoulder and arms is irritated due to pressure in the neck area, causing severe itching at the other end of the nerve. Itching. Unbearable itching. From everything I've read about it, there is no medication that really works. One day Caladryl will provide some relief, the next day it won't. Then, you try capsacion and it works for a day or two, then fails. Then you try hydrogen peroxide, tea tree oil, you-name-it. Sometimes things bring relief; often, they don't. My shoulders and arms are covered with scabs, bruises from scratching, and new red bumps waiting to be scratched open... Lovely. If you ever have insomnia and are looking for something to do with your nightime hours, develop brachioradial pruritis, and you pass the time actively. And, when you get up to find whatever lotion or potion you're applying to the itch, be sure to let the animals know that it is NOT mealtime - I repeat, it is NOT mealtime. Then, settle back in.
#3 The cat: Those of you who have read my blog before know that CassPurr was gone for about a month, and that we got him back a week or so ago. CassPurr's favorite place on earth is our bed - day and night. He occasionally leaves the boudoir for a meal or for the litter box, and every now and then, he actually wanders through the house. But, for the most part, he loves that bed! When I'm in it, he goes for the pillow area, placing his body on top of my head or across my face. Apparently, he's been watching Moshe, because he tries to roll himself up in my hair - the feline burrito in the making! Cassie also likes to lay on my stomach and stare into my face, occasionally taking his little paw to pat my cheek. It is endearing when I'm watching TV... not so much at 1 AM, when I've finally fallen asleep... This morning, around 4 or 5, he desperately woke me up. He had the strangest little look on his face! He sort of looked panicky - big eyes, as if he was going to burst. (Prophetic.) Then, he started making those feline pre-barf sounds. I shot up in the bed, scooped him up, and placed him on the floor - just in time. Three barf sounds. Ugh. He had eaten a mouse. Two piles of mouse entrails and one head. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Nobody DARED act as if it was mealtime...
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| CassPurr - friend of birds: mice - not so much! |
Like I said, I USED to sleep eight hours straight. Nevertheless...
Shalom Y'all - Twyla
