This morning I got up feeling so-so and went about tasks for people who felt less than so-so. Then, about 2pm, I started thinking “Uh, no. No more chills please; no more waves of fatigue. No-no-no-no.” But there I was, on the sofa, under a blanket and two afghans, my body pulled up into a ball.

After a while, I felt better and went out to the kitchen for crackers; then I sat down and did sudokus and surfed the internet and read my Kindle . . . all with the undercurrent of vague apprehension.

About an hour ago, out of the blue, I realized I was hungry. SO I HOPPED UP. I scanned the refrigerator for real food and scarfed it down. I guess the little invaders had tried one last attack before my AmeliaJake defenders planted the AJ flag on high ground.

Good job, guys. It’s V-AJ Day. (Well, maybe I’ll knock on the flagpole for good measure.)

I have written about us having the flu. At first it seemed like the fast-moving surgical strike type of flu: Snap of fingers and violent symptoms begin, hours of agony, snap of fingers and symptoms stop.
Well, not exactly. Not exactly, at all.
I guess what happens to most victims is this: Oh, feeling sort of bad, then, BAM, really, really bad. It is so bad when it abates, you feel much better – but only relatively. Days of sort of sick continue. I was different: felt sort of bad, got flattened like a cartoon character, sort of re-inflated and then continued to feel sort of sick.

Are you sort of following me here? Perhaps this flu eats vocabulary for energy.

While I was spared the wild vomiting, I am now waiting out the slow down of my stomach processing machinery. I eat crackers, some with a little cheese on them – but not very many or I feel soooo full. I tried something else – okay, it was part of a Little Debbie Boston Cream Cake – and proceeded to burp it up for hours. So back to crackers and cheese.

Quentin spent New Year’s Eve in Galveston and spotted this bear . . . very far away from the Ohio Redoubt of the West Facing Cave- but very close to a sweet shop – and we know how those WFC bears like their sweets.