Even this morning, as my hard-working husband was getting up to go to the shop, I asked how his throat was and he said it felt like he was swallowing a hot baseball. Not unlike having those prickly gumballs forced down past your tonsils. I likened it to swallowing broken glass, but I guess it's all the same. Finally mine hurts just on the left side, up under my ear. So odd.
But thankfully everyone's healing even more---a slower pace than I'd like, but can't complain. Well, I can complain, but doesn't do any good.
There are positives to illness, though. A slower pace for me and time to think on things. If I can avoid looking at the atrocious state of the house (avert the eyes---avert the eyes), then I can focus on dispensing the ever-ending cups of hot tea and popsicles that are so soothing. Just the taking care part of mothering.
Right now clothes are washing, with a big towel stuffed under the front of the machine to catch the leak from the water pump. It went out last week, and I ordered the part a couple of days ago (should arrive this afternoon), so I figure Gary will likely put it on when he gets back home. Small potatoes.
Now I'm in bed. A diet root beer by my side, courtesy of one son who bought a six-pack. A fresh journal to work on to get ready for my first herbal class lesson. Just piddly things today, to make up for my extreme running around yesterday. Gary told me to stay in bed today, but while that's not possible, being careful is possible, and necessary. Kind of that three steps forward, two steps back---or is it the other way around?
Again, thanks for showing love to me. It means a great deal.
