Sick Day

I really was sick yesterday. I hadn't slept at all the night before, my tummy rumbling and the rest of my body sweating profusely. But when I got up in the morning, I said to myself, I've had a tummy rumble and diarrhea for three days now, whatever bug I have has run its course and I have to get to work. I got to work and asked if I could turn around and go back home. This intestinal bug was still bugging me. 

But not so much that I had to stay in bed all day, not when I saw what was transpiring in my backyard. Sometimes it is a stroke of luck to be sick. 

You've seen pictures of my backyard in the past, but I must retrace a few steps.

 This is the view from my back deck on January 4 of this year. My dad had made that sundial years and years ago. When Mom moved out of her house in 1995, she asked if anyone wanted it and I said "sure". We stuck it amongst the daylillies and other flowers that the previous owner had planted and didn't think more of it.

 By January 31,  I was fascinated by the top-hat look that the sundial was taking on.

 By February 18, it was nearly buried in the snow.

 But by March 3, it appeared to have reached maximum capacity.

 Now is the point when you will think I have lost my mind. Let the countdown begin.
At 7:22 am.

 At 10:19. Hmm? It is definitely not going to last long.

 At 11:01. I think I have a fever, I should really go back to bed.

 At 11:48. Is it possible that I will witness the demise of the top-hat?

At 11:59. I took this picture and turned to check something else on the deck, and when I turned back . . .

. . . one minute later, at 12:00, my little pile of snow bit the snowbank.