The Good Kind Of Tired

We just got back home from a fun-filled weekend in the Raleigh/Durham area. We went to a concert last night: Lindsey McCaul and Royal Tailor opened for Matthew West and Casting Crowns. (They're all Christian bands, if you didn't know that already.) Great job by all of them! It was an awesome experience worshiping openly with thousands of other Christians. That's taking corporate worship to a whole new level. Previews of heaven? I think so.

We meandered our way around the Duke Gardens this afternoon with my sister-in-law and her hubby. Lots of lovely flowers and trees and water features. And sunshine and pollen. (More on those two later -- the sunshine and pollen, not my sister-in-law and her hubby). We climbed a magnolia tree, and took pictures to prove that it happened. We met a duck and his wife, Millard the Mallard and Henrietta the Hen. They offered us worms to eat, but we politely declined. We had nothing to offer them.

We headed back into Durham for a wonderful late lunch of pizza and arrived just in time for the last few minutes of the UNC-Chapel Hill and N.C. State basketball game. We were in a room full of people who hated Carolina (and probably loved Duke, Lord help them) and a few Wolfpack fans. Being a Carolina fan myself but not really having a dog in the race, I mostly kept quiet. Though I silently rejoiced when Carolina pulled out a dubious last-second win.

We then went back to the family's house to relax for a bit before hitting the road to come back home. I spent the next couple of hours petting a monstrously large dog who deigned to sit in my lap for a time, and a medium-sized dog who looked at me with sad eyes saying "Just one more pat on the head, please," and a just-right-sized dog who shook my hand cordially every time I said his name.

Then I was sick. Slightly violently ill, actually, though that phrase is somewhat cliche by now. I was sick again, and then again. I took some medicine and after awhile began to feel a little better. But the headache that foreshadowed the whole business persisted (and still persists as I write this). It dawned on me. I'd gotten a little too much sun at the gardens.

Being a fair-haired, fair-skinned person, I don't do too well with lots of sunshine (it doesn't even have to be that warm), and I tend to get feeling sick this way. It happened a few years ago when we went on a missions trip to Mexico. It happens nearly every time we go to the beach.

Now, finally home again, I'm killing the pain with Ibuprofen and trying to relax. It's been a long day, and already a long weekend, but it's been a good one. I'm tired, but it's the good kind of tired. The kind of tired you get from doing things you enjoy, like going to concerts, going to gardens, eating pizza. The kind of tired you also get from being sick, though that's hardly the good kind.

I committed myself to write a blog post every day, and this is one of those day where I'd just as soon skip it, but here it is. I may have bored you with this account, but having dumped my brain of its contents (at least the recent additions) I can rest now. Till tomorrow....