Monday, April 24, 2006

A cold reception on our weekend away

So our weekend away was, by most accounts, relaxing, fun, and refreshing. We escaped Saturday afternoon to a little historic town not far from our home, checked into a bed and breakfast, went antiquing, picnicked at a local winery, and visited an underground Irish pub--all before gorging ourselves on a gourmet dinner.

Have you ever eaten so much you're in pain? The Banker and I'd had a great meal of warm bread, cheese, summer sausage, and fruit at the little winery around 3 o'clock. Our dinner reservations weren't until 8, but after a bottle of wine and a full picnic basket, we weren't remotely hungry enough for the four-course meal that followed.

But we ate it all anyway, including the soup made up almost entirely of heavy cream. Sensibly, we passed on dessert, but only because we didn't want to vomit on the linen-clad tables. Add to that severe pain a good hour (and a few pints) at this amazing pub that's 60-feet underground, and it was 11:30 before we struggled back to the B&B, overly, painfully full. It was humid, but as we waddled we watched a storm slowly roll in, complete with a beautiful display of lightening.

Our Victorian-styled room was equally humid. The owner clearly wasn't ready to put the AC on yet, and a sole ceiling fan labored to cool our little room. But our food coma taking its toll, The Banker and I were asleep in no time.

But my dear husband's pain continued into the wee hours of the night--I awoke to his distinctive moaning and kicking a little past 3 in the morning. Laughing to myself, I rolled over and was just about to slip off to sleep again when my body suddenly felt as if it had been drenched in ice-cold water. My chest felt heavy and every hair on my body stood on end. I was instantly awake--and terrified beyond words. I was so frightened I refused to open my eyes. The feeling lasted for a minute, maybe two, and was just as quickly gone. I woke up The Banker but was unable to really explain what had happened. What had happened? Essentially, nothing extraordinary had occurred. But I was freaked out--so much so that while teasing would have been his immediate, good-natured response, The Banker held me until I quit shaking.

Needless to say, sleep eluded me for the better part of the night. And that cold sensation? It revisited me some hours later, but again I refused to open my eyes, and this time didn't wake up The Banker.

So is there some medical malady that hits you--twice--with the sense of freezing temperatures, only to subside minutes later? Is there some explanation I can place on this disturbing experience? Please, please, please, someone, let me know. Because it was awful. And I need someone to put my mind at ease.

At least someone other than the owner, who informed me the next morning that the B&B--built in 1848--was said to be frequented by a friendly spirit?!?

No comments: