Real Life in the Midst of the Unreal
Ernie kindly passed along his wretched cold to me. I seem to have had a cold all winter (my immune system must be on strike) but this one hit much harder. Much harder. I haven’t been so miserable with a cold in eons. Ernie’s had it even worse though, poor sweet pea, so we’ve become the doddering old couple wrapped in blankets on the couch engrossed in tv shows of varying quality. I made it into work yesterday and did pretty well but glad to be home today. I don’t like the weather…ice is my new enemy with my walker. Snow is of course a whole different thing and always welcome.
I decided a little salt dish would be perfect for paper clips on my new desk. I checked eBay in case there was something cheap (actually looking for another strawberry diamond lacy salt) and came across a little 1880’s wheelbarrow salt. I’ve never particularly had a weakness for those 1880’s novelty pieces. Wellll, ok, I have hung onto my little Wildflower salt that is a turtle with a little boat shaped salt on his back, but other than that…not so much. Ernie was smitten with it too and it didn’t cost much and shipping was cheap. Plus, as Ernie said, it seemed to be fitting for a farm.
Speaking of settling in, the cats are doing well. Olney seems to have calmed down a bit and if he goes after Sack it seems like he mostly wants to play. I think we need to wear him out more, we got used to having old cats! He sleeps upstairs with Ernie at night. Sack makes the rounds but settles on top of me several times a night and much of her days are spent curled up on either Ernie or me. When she wants attention she lets out the tiniest little meow you’ve ever heard. She is delightful and a bit of a flirt. Olney fluctuates between being a bit standoffish and then utterly charming. He’s a piece of work, just as we expected.
My stomach muscles ache from coughing and I feel like hell yet it feels strange to focus on things like that or my daily work or what I eat when dangerous things are happening in our country. I have a hard time watching and reading the news but I follow Heather Cox Richardson’s daily writings. They sometimes make me shiver.
And in other completely unrelated notes, if you’re too sick to make appetizers for an awards show, you can just cut your frozen pizza up into tiny pieces. Tastes much better that way.
And here is a picture of a dinner we threw out. We were going for comfort food…pasta with parmesan and peas but it ended up being a slick of salt. I have no idea what the chef did but into the trash it went. Just in case you think we can cook.
As I went through the living room the other night I saw a few boys playing with some kind of lightsabers. It made me smile so much, thinking of the endless hours our boys played in that field, sometimes with their own lightsabers (thank you, Debbie).
Onward.
Love,
Cynthia
Heather Cox Richardson is my favorite historian! She is helping keep me sane.