I stopped throwing up, but I never did stop swaying. And that was a bad thing, because a few days ago, I tripped on the outdoor steps, fell down them, and crashed, smashing my legs, foot, elbow, etc. etc.
I have a broken toe, multiple bruises and an absolute terror of the outdoors now.
Mr.Cotta fell too in a separate incident, bruised and banged up his foot, and his shin. Nothing broken thank God.
We were both stone cold sober btw, the steps, along with this entire house are built for extremely tall people, and I am short. The rise on these steps, combined with the gravel and log steps, makes for a difficult walk for anyone.
The water pump for the well broke the night before that, no clean water for hours. The landlord came quickly with a plumber, but it turned out that it was the electrical circuit that had become messed up. We had a choice, we could either have clean water, or have heat and power in the bunkie my son and his friend were sleeping in. It drops to 10 degrees Celsius (maybe 50 F I think?) at night in cottage country, so it was like choosing between a rock and a hard place. In the end, we hooked up the heater to the extension cord.
We're leaving early. Even he agrees, this was a debacle. He keeps muttering things like "filing a forty page cause of action when I get back to the office". I know he won't sue, but I wish he would at least get a refund. Sigh....
As God is my witness, I'm never going to a cottage again. Even a resort hotel anywhere rural or northern is iffy at this point. I'm too afraid.
Have to finish doing laundry & packing the car now. Even with a broken foot, the chores never end.