We spent all last week with the Flu.
I’m still a bit glassy-eyed from all of the screen time and am sporting the stamina of a fruit fly. Even so, I managed to put away Christmas; it had turned vulgar and garish through the haze of the Flu. I spent nearly three years with my new friends, the Bravermans last week. Knitting projects ebbed and flowed, with only slightly more stitches made than ripped out. A massive thaw uncovered our working wood pile. There’s much work to be done there, but it’s work for a creature stronger than a fruit fly, so it will wait. Meanwhile, the washer and dryer spit out a steady stream of Fresh Starts, taking the virulent contagion out of our bedding, though it continues to rattle in our chests.