Progress at the infirmary

Thank you for your kindnesses.  The words have brought tears to my eyes, in just caring about us in our sickness.  It really has been so wearing, but to read your comments of compassion really has made a difference.  I put a lot of stock in a loving word said at a needed time.  And when you feel beaten down, just a simple sweet phrase can be an encouragement.

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.

The state of the sickroom

Well, now I can say that the whole family has officially gotten sick, though suffering in various stages of blechy-ness. Youngest son, who had something wrong with him last week (or was it the week before?), had recovered only to get the conjunctivitis et al last night.  The house is one huge bedroom.  Sheets spread out over the sofa, the extra comfy chair, and trickling down onto the floor.  Clean piles of clothes being sorted in a need-to-know manner.  Like, if you need it, I know where to find it.  Oldest son, who also has the eye infection went to work this morning only to return shortly thereafter.  Way to go.  Work beckons and it's darn hard to not go sometimes.  I admire our kids' work ethic, but really, health does trump work at times (should at all times, if you ask me).

it's what it is...

I think I'm confused.  My brain function is sorta stinky.  And I keep biting my tongue in the same spot, which is no help at all when I cough.

I hope none of you fine folks out there get what we've had.  Bonnie, you said you guys had had it, or I'm guessing something similar.  And you, Aneta...maybe yours was flu.  It stinks big time, doesn't it?

I don't think our house or lives will ever run smoothly again.  It's like we're stuck in a vortex of head congestion, sore throats and tissues.  A revolving door illness.

Had to take second son (who is also sick, yet working) to leave off his car to get new tires, then take him to work.  His timing for getting the car worked on is choice, I'm thinking.  ::sarcasm::  Thankfully he's off tomorrow.  He can do nothing for a change.  My bad move was going afterward to the drug store (for necessities, really) and then the grocery store (which was really more than I could bear).  But, shoot, if everyone's sick, who's going to run errands?  Well, Gary called me when I was waiting for our son, said he'd do the store trip, but he's sick too!!!  It's a sad state of affairs.  ::whining::  When Gary found out all I'd done (checking on me from the shop, where he was working as well), he gave me the lecture about doing too much.  Am laid out in bed now.  He was right.

Fortunately tomorrow will be an at-home day except for taking son to get his car which will have been outfitted with dishy new tires. Looking forward to warmer weather (sometime, don't know when), but 70+ degree weather and sunshine sure would be nice right about now.

Tales from the sick ward

the least one's photo of our first daffs.

Third son brought home bowls of ravioli soup for Gary and me from the restaurant last night.  I had mine for lunch today and it was wonderful.  So nice to have something different, and a luxury to boot that someone else fixed it.  My on and off again sore throat is still undecided about crunchy food, so ravioli just slipped on past without making me wince.  The perfect meal.

Everyone's healing here, but fourth son got sent home from work today since he's still showing signs of conjunctivitis.  I realize it spreads like wild-fire, but the way the working world is today, folks work through all sorts of symptoms and illnesses and everyone turns a blind eye.  Refreshing to see his superiors make a stand in favor of everyone's health.  Good call.  

And with my research hat on I was able to pinpoint what we've all had, and it's called adeno*virus.  We don't have the sort that causes stomach issues (thankfully) but it's limited to the above-the-neck troubles---sore throat, runny noses, endless coughing and for most, the pink eye (not me, though...yay). Seems to last 10-14 days start to finish.  Darn long.  Oh, and did I mention fatigue? Definitely don't like that part.

Well, time to run.  Am just being a slug in bed with Daisy, and need to put the chicken on to simmer for a pie later on. Gary says we need to eat, and all the while he's talking, the sick ones are looking at him with one eye and seeing a cabinet lined up with soup with the other.  We're two ways about eating.  Mostly not in favor.  Not the best way to lose weight, but it is one way.

When the pugs were new

Some of you have been my blogging buddies for years, and remember my talk about getting baby pugs.  That happened back in 2007, just before Christmas.  Well, here's a photo Gary found over the weekend of me holding little Violet.  Compare it to her resting on my shoulder in the sidebar.  She and Daisy were only just over 5 weeks old when we got them (victims of a puppy mill in a neighboring state).  They had to be taken from their mother early in order to process the huge amount of dogs that were involved.  The woman who was guilty of raising the dogs in crowded and unkind conditions was given just one pet afterward, and it was our pugs' mother.  Just thought this photo was so adorable. We'd bundle the puppies in tea towels and hold them to our chests to keep them warm.  Best Christmas present ever. :)

Thoughts from the sick room...

There's something that happens to the clarity of life when I'm sick for a few days, especially if I spend time in bed.  By necessity, I go about my tasks (whatever they might be) slower, and with my head stopped up, my life seems swallowed up in cotton.  The edges are blurry and everything slows down.

Told oldest daughter that I'd like to hold onto this feeling of quiet a bit longer, and not bow down to the busyness that seems to swamp me.  So I guess you could say that this illness has been a blessing.  I'd not have said it yesterday, though, after suffering from a ripping sore throat for four days.  Felt like I was working through a mouthful of broken glass whenever I'd drink something. I'm thankful that viruses run their course, and barring the occasional emergency of symptoms, we all do indeed get well again.

Now besides the stuffy head, and sore throat twinges for some, we're all coughing.  Some of the kids have ended up with a conjunctivitis-like problem in their eyes.  Only lasts just over a couple of days, though.  That's sort of interesting.  No joint pain.  Mainly just that super obnoxious sore throat and a cough that likes to set up house.  What's really curious is the search I've done online that points to certain flu strains as providing pink eye as an added twist.  How kind.

In the winter months, the word flu is the unwanted guest that most everyone is on the look-out for, but don't want to deal with.  Then after the sickness is past, we all breath a sigh of relief, mainly because we tend to enjoy a year's immunity, least that's our personal experience.

So for now, I'll try to appreciate the muffled sounds in my head.  And try to laugh at the kids asking what's for dinner when they know full well I've not been to the store and what's in the fridge was also in there a couple of days ago. :) They must think I'm some sort of kitchen magician.

'A Pug's Guide to Etiquette' by Gemma Correll

As a pug owner of over five years now to sisters Violet and Daisy, I can honestly say that this book by Gemma Correll is the most honest portrayal of pug life of any I've ever seen.  A Pug's Guide to Etiquette had all of us laughing as we'd read a few pages, point at our pugs and then laugh again.  Seems that all pugs are alike, and truly are the funniest breed of dog.  No other dog that we've ever owned has seemed more like a human in dog form.   Her drawings are wonderful, very simple and clean.  And the expressions on her pug faces are spot on.  I love this book.

Yes, our dogs lick the air, stand between/on our feet, shed endlessly, have feet that smell of popcorn---though we think ours smelled a bit like tortilla chips as well.  

Correll takes from real life by using her own pugs as inspiration.  And really, that's the only way to do it since I had no idea pugs were so adorable and addictive until we got ours.  Pug owners truly are kindred spirits.  Nobody else can really get it.

Thank you Gemma Correll for telling the world how glorious pug ownership is.  After this book gets out in public we might just experience a pug shortage.  

More of Gemma's work can be found at her website at GemmaCorrell, and on her Facebook page.

A Pug's Guide to Etiquette by Gemma Correll is published by Dog 'n' Bone at £9.99 and is available from www.cicobooks.com

(i received this book free to review from CICObooks)

Herbal stuff

assorted cups of tea for sore throats

So, last night my woodboy signed me up for a pretty extensive herbalist's class online.  Not something we could ordinarily afford, but those tax refunds do come in handy just at the right time.  I think I'm in shock.  This is something I've dreamed of doing for years and years, already treating our family with herbs, etc., but to now be learning in more of an official capacity will be thrilling.  He's even talking about making our former breakfast room into a sort of still room.  Says he'll put up racks for drying and talked about shelves for bottles and all.  My goodness, I think he's more excited that me, if that's possible.  I like this idea much better than putting a treadmill in that room. Much better. And last night he downloaded an herbal book onto his Kindle reader on his phone and proceeded to read it to me.  Not my idea of a bedtime story, but I'm not complaining.  That'd be foolish.

I think I'd be more wound up if I wasn't sick, though.  In between careful gulps of tea and coughing fits, I am looking forward to it.  Even before he set up the classes I'd ordered several packets of seeds online. Now the classes will just put feet to my gardening this spring and summer.

He said last night that there are two things I get worked up about---one being the herbs and the other being art history. Bless him for always making attempts at me being more of who I really am.  Sometimes takes awhile for us to even know ourselves notwithstanding those who live with us.  But to have a heart's desire met is amazing.  Truly amazing.