of heatwaves and trippy heart shit

I think summer is here at last. For the past two days, it has been warm and sunny, and a good excuse for me to get out and about.
I walked to the end of the street again on Saturday, and on Sunday, I made small talk with a neighbour I don’t know that well (I know her cat, Ben, more than I know her) I told her about how I make catnip pillows, and fetched one over for Ben. I felt proud, that I was talking to someone without trying to get out of the situation.
Also on Sunday, I finished my front garden. Now, I have a lovely little brown picket fence dividing my garden and my next-door neighbours, and a deep border in front of it. I have planted all blues and whites, and have included two blue glazed pots filled with lavender. I have a beautiful blue buddleia, and two flowering hebe’s – both blue. I feel happy that I have got all this done, however I now have a fucking trapped nerve in my shoulder (this happens every now and again, but is still annoying and painful).
I’m typing with pins-and-needles in my fingers…
The trippy heart shit is weird. I don’t know what it is, or what causes it, but I sometimes have real trouble at night sleeping because of it. It feels like a surreal cross between heartburn, pins-and-needles, being tickled and being hyper-sensitive. I’ve had lots of theories as to what it is, ranging from being hot, to actual heartburn, to a kind of panic attack. It lasts for several hours, and I usually need some meds to help me sleep. I have tried all sorts of things to deal with it, treating it like a panic attack. I’ve tried reading, watching TV, the usual diversional activities. It’s worse when I lie down, but makes me restless anyway. Often, I’ll come online, because it is something to take my mind off it, and I’m sitting up.
So, it was 2am before I got to sleep last night. The hot weather didn’t help, and I think that started me off being restless. I mentally paced up and down, there was nothing on TV apart from some EMT Rescue thing on Discovery. I couldn’t concentrate on the internet, so I went downstairs. I had a drink, I lay on the sofa. I sat up again, removing two cats as I did so. At 1am, I went out into the garden in my nightie and bare feet, and walked around the lawn, breathing in the delicious night air.
With my feet still damp, I went back to bed, and managed to sleep until around 7am.

Dug out…

I’ve not been on any more jaunts, but I have spent a good 2 hours digging the front garden.
I say garden, what I mean is a small square of lawn, about 9 square meters, which I have been trying to dig a border into. I blogged about this a while ago, but I’d only gotten as far as lifting sod. I’ve avoided tackling this job, simply because it is such bloody hard work.
However, today, I decided to finish it off. I had a nice chat with my neighbour, then took a deep breath and weilded my fork.
As I expected, I picked out many more stones, and at one point wondered how far the foundations of my house came out… However, the earth is turned over and neat, and tomorrow it’s off to Homebase to get some compost and sharp sand to dig into it.
I hurt already. God, I so hurt. What was all this crap about my garden being a blank canvas? I was sodding deluded. Don’t get me wrong – I love my garden, but I wish I were stronger and had more stamina. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger.
(If anyone has the ability to grant this wish, please can I have a nice svelte body too? Ta.)