I'm really starting to appreciate how Civil War campaigns broke down people's health, though. Even without wounds and camp diseases, I'm starting to have problems. This time, it was heat again (ever since I fried myself that time when I went into borderline heat stroke, it's been an issue), plus an allergy attack that was definitely in the top 5 of my experience. (Three of the others occurred when I had to be on the site back when I was Jilara the Head Constable.) In all cases, it was bad enough that allergy meds only took a little of the edge off. I spent most of Saturday night walking from one end of the site to the other, because being in motion was the only way I seemed to be able to breathe. But as 1st Sgt, I needed to be on site. But it was one of the few events when firing cannon was more something just to be dealth with, rather than fun. And by Sunday I was having heat issues, enough that my commanding officer noticed it and made me sit down and consume fluids. But because this event was three days compressed into two, I was in constant motion. Reminded me of back when I was Constable...
I got home Sunday night and fell into bed, waking up every two hours to consume fluids and try to regulate my abused sinuses and fever with allergy meds and aspirin, every four. Monday was bleary. However, I went to see the new release of Major Dundee with Scott, and was thrilled to see them hauling around a "baby howitzer" that was the spitting image of Goldie! And because she's currently on Bob's pack carriage, she was even on the same type of carriage, when I fired her, the weekend before. By evening, I was feeling a bit better, but still bleary. So I fell into bed early again, and slept soundly, trying to make up for my sleep-deprived weekend, until the Siamese clock woke me this morning.
I was definitely in a Memorial Day mood, this year. Doing Civil War reenactment on this weekend reenforces it, but it was especially eerie this year because the service (which we did on Sunday, since the Monday for the event was cancelled) mentioned that one of the decendants of the owners of the site had been killed in Iraq. Really brought home that draped coffin on the caisson.
And I watched WWII retrospectives on TV yesterday, remembering how my mother's high school boyfriend had been killed at Pearl Harbor, and another boyfriend had died on Utah Beach.
I can only hope that Memorial Day doesn't completely devolve into just another long weekend, with a day suitable for barbequing.