Sick Day

It is a sad day at my house. A sick day.

Rather, one more sick day of a long series.  Frank is violently ill. Nora’s cold and cough linger. My chest burned this morning when I ventured out for a walk, and chills nagged me all day. Ez and Meisha stayed home from school, begging nausea and extra-indescribable malaise (and since they didn’t venture into the kitchen til late afternoon, I had to believe them).

Michaelyn dropped by to check in; she left early and blew a kiss goodbye. Maurya, a little disgusted at everyone’s apathy, had to get out of the house, and went to work to see if they needed her. It was all a little depressing.

And I can’t think of anything even marginally interesting (especially to me) to write about. Photo shoots await my eventual robustness (I do believe in fairies, I do, I do). My chicken love story (actually my Aunt Cynthia’s chicken love story) awaits a clearer noggin. Even humor about sick days is out of reach. I think, I type…nothing. Delete, type again…nothing. Blow my nose, make some tea, check someone’s temp…nothing.

Maurya is home again now, strumming her guitar. I should tuck in, but the melody is so sweet and haunting. Probably the nicest part of the day, barring Ezra’s kiss and Nora’s arms round my neck. I think she’s waiting up to skype with her far, faraway boyfriend. On that note, since even humor has evaded me, I will just leave a few pictures I shot the other day, before my respiratory system was compromised by snot. And…I’ll be back. Maybe tomorrow. Hopefully (for me) tomorrow.