two weeks until wilco

I’m alive. I think. Sickness wiped me out this week and today is my first day back at work. I spent the week sleeping, reading, sleeping, watching Sex and the City, sleeping, watching Ken Burns’ National Parks documentary, sleeping, knitting, and sleeping.

I slept. A lot. I ate a lot of soup. I drank a lot of tea. I took a lot of Mucinex D. I took a lot of Tylenol PM. I went to the doctor who told me to stay home two more days, keep doing what I’m doing, and gave me a prescription for cough medicine which I didn’t think made me loopy until I took it at work and now I’m feeling loopy. I also have developed some sort of rash which the doctor seems to think is related to fever/chills but I’m not convinced isn’t an allergy to either Mucinex D or the amazing olives Kevin and Xtina brought me. It better be the Mucinex because I’m not going to stop eating the olives.

Poe has left us. It’s sad. It’s getting less sad, but the goodbye wasn’t pretty. Tears were shed. Grace took about a day and half before she ventured into the tv room. It wasn’t until she was in there I noticed how neglected she had been. I miss Poe, but it’s nice to have my big fat crabby Grace back.

Before my illness truly took hold I managed to hit up Salt of the Earth in Fennville with the Kapteyn-Dekkingas. It was good, solid, accessible food. It’s no Journeyman (nor should it be), but it’s reasonably priced and tasty for the most part. I would go back just for the homemade s’more which I’m still dreaming about.

This weekend: maybe go out for supper if I’m not completely dead by the end of the day, watch the last episode of National Parks, knit, market, hang with Peter outside the barn, and Neal John’s first birthday party.

FYI: homemade Christmas madness has begun.