Still under the rhino

This rhino-virus has got me down, but I'm fighting gamely. What I find most disconcerting is the fever and dehydration which sneaks up on you and makes you too stupid to wonder if maybe you might be dehydrated. Yesterday, I was pouring myself a glass of orange juice and spilled a bit. First I put the OJ back in the fridge. Then I found myself standing in front of the spill with a spoon in my hand wondering, "What's wrong with this picture?"

DH has been heroic about tending me, but he's pretty pooped and run down himself. It's 2ish - 3ish in the afternoon, and he's still sleeping. And somone is gonna have to clean the litterboxes any minute now or the cats will explode. A friend of mine has a teenaged son with a similar complaint (the rhino, not the exploding cats) and tending a sick adult male heir ranks right up there with poking grizzly bears with a short stick, and taking meat away from hungry tigers on the list of jobs no one wants. I can DO litterboxes! Dealing with someone who wants to be seen as a man and still have his mommy make it all better is a juggling act far beyond my capabilities. Am I babbling?


Janette in Australia sent me a wonderful, delicate set of china for my birthday. She is the most generous, thoughtful girl! It has been over a decade since we met on the Woolworks chat boards as we both helped novice knitters fix their booboos. When DH and I went to Sydney, Janette had a respiratory crud that laid her low, so she sent her lovely husband to take us on a tour of the nearby country, He showed us a splendid good time, and wound up taking us back to his house so Janette and I could at least look at one another across the hedge and smile and wave. (Actually, being the girl she is, she invited me in and showed me her yarn, her books, and her kitties.)