Egad for headaches!
Not mine, of course. I don’t have to suffer such things but Harold is a martyr to them.* I wouldn’t care, but we all suffer when Harold has a headache. I asked him why he had a headache and he said, in a strained voice, that it was a ‘pressure headache’ that wouldn’t dissipate until a storm broke.
A storm? Fabulous! I love summer storms where the rain lashes down and the thunder and lightning crashes overhear making you wish you had a tower and a lightning rod to draw it closer. Oh! Wait…
However, although the barometer agrees with him, there’s little sign of a storm brewing today. There was a bit of a summer mist this morning when Felicia and I went out a little after dawn, but nothing that would warrant a raincoat. The sun was up by nine and burned away the clouds leaving it a hot and muggy day.
Harold asked me if I had something for a headache. I clouted him with a steel pipe.
*So he says, anyway. If he was really a martyr to them we could go back a couple of hundred years and have him burned as a heretic. Sadly the decline of the Catholic Church means that burnings are far less common now (though they do still occur).
Image: Yoga Therapy: Overcoming Headaches
5 comments:
Ouch! A bit literal in the interpretation there. ;)
Barometers and heads rarely lie about summer storms. Laverstone should get one soon. I, too, enjoy a good lashing.
Note to self not to 1) mention being a martyr to headaches round you or 2)ask for something for them. Still sorry I won't be able to go to the Novel Racers meet this time. Enjoy the meeting.
Stephanie - of course you do!
Chris - Sorry you won't be there.
Arghhhh. Headaches! Just finished a round of migraines myself.
I had a migraine for two years. I finally found something natural that kicked it out of my head - but the lines left in my forehead aggravate me.
I'm thinking that I need to stay away from you Jasfoup. I try very hard not to complain when I am stricken but sometimes it feels like my head is splitting in two. For one who has never had one.....well....you sound like my mother.
The little tumour I have in my brain isn't growing - not yet anyway.
But Aims -- you's was a real headache. Harold's was a man-headache.
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