Judas, the apostle who betrayed Jesus, was the 13th person to arrive at dinner, making 13 an unlucky number on any day of the week. Add to that the fact that Jesus died on a Friday, and Friday the 13th gets its bad rap.
Friday is named for Frigga, the free-spirited goddess of love and fertility. When Norse and Germanic tribes converted to Christianity, Frigga was banished in shame to a mountaintop and labeled a witch. It was believed that every Friday, the spiteful goddess convened a meeting with eleven other witches, plus the devil — a gathering of thirteen — and plotted ill turns of fate for the coming week. For many centuries in Scandinavia, Friday was known as ' Witches ' Sabbath
Perhaps that is why the *Blogger went off-line for 24 hours and pages have disappeared.
Yesterday it was 2 pm before the migraine had eased up enough for me to have clear vision. I have often wondered what people must think when they are trying to talk to someone - while they are fighting a violent migraine. Your speech becomes animated, you don't want to speak at all, so in my case I try to over compensate - often speaking faster. All the time you are trying to focus, trying to stop from feeling nauseated, trying to cope with the constant pounding in your head and eyes.
From 4 pm until 10.30 pm the migraine .... just left. There was no reason why, it's thoroughly unexplainable why I can't control what seemingly should be controllable.
At the Lazy J yesterday evening Jan and I sat discussing the electricity to my land. I kept explaining that I could not afford the amount Otero County Electric Co-op requested if I had just one meter. They wanted twice as much as the $3,000 I had. So I had signed contract with Otero to install the electricity for $3,000 with an agreement that I would have two meters. One on the barn and one on the well.
So I would assume that I would need two poles.
Jan asked me why I couldn't go underground, but I couldn't answer that. I only knew that I had been told that I needed two poles.
She asked me how tall the poles needed to be. I didn't know that either.
Finally she told me that what I was saying didn't make sense. It doesn't make much sense to me anymore, which is why I'm not a contractor. I only know that I need to get electricity to that land and I don't have a clue how to do it. Here I am in the 4th year and still struggling to get something as simplistic as electricity to the land.
By nightfall I had stressed out so much about trying to get the electricity I was back to trying to feeling deathly ill, and eventually the infamous migraine returned in full force. I slept less than 2 hours last night as the anxiety rose and the pain increased.
The weather is fabulous. One couldn't wish for more beautiful weather and if I could only get some help I just may be able to be in a home before winter, yet it's like playing a cruel game of two steps forward and eight steps back.
It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. ~Theodore Roosevelt
