Thursday, March 11, 2010

sick sick sick

I am quickly posting while still under the influence of acetaminophen, for once it wears off, I will most likely return to the sofa and bury myself under a heap of blankets.  That is what I have been doing on and off for the past two days.  I have a sore throat and an enlarged lymph node on one side of my neck that makes me look like I've swallowed a mump.  Really it is the elevated temperature that does me in...I am oscillating between chattering teeth and soaking my pajamas with sweat.  My kids have been very sweet, praying for my speedy recovery in spite of the fact that this will mean a return to schoolwork.

On the upside, Gemma is much better.  Still snotty, and congested (she snores louder than her papa!), but her appetite seems to be returning.  I, myself, haven't eaten more than a waffle and a two slices of bread in two days, and only now do I feel a bit hungry.  Strangely, I am craving sardines on toast with thin slices of red onion.  Would that I had some in the pantry...

Yesterday a bit of sunshine broke in upon the darkness when I got a little "care package" from a dear lady in California whom I have never met, but whose lovely photos and honest writing I have come to love.  Among the many goodies was a handmade bib for Gemma, a long-sleeved T-shirt hand embroidered for her and a bar of special chocolate I had to hide from the kids (Sunday can't come quickly enough, Regan!).

Sebastian has been climbing the stepladder and examining many high-up boxes in our office.  He has asked why we have three dead phones among the boxes.  "Because your Papa is a pack-rat", I told him.  "When I grow up, I'm going to be a pack-rat, too!" he declared.  Kids are naturally pack-rats.  Also discovered, a few of my cassette tapes from way back when, nearly 30 years ago.  We listened to the English Beat, and Sebastian said, "Interesting music."

So, I will sign off for now and try to do something nice and quiet for a bit, waiting for the chills to return and my next dose of Tylenol or Motrin.

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