A threat of snow that will probably be rain dampens down the morning and I wake up finally vanquished by this cold that has been chasing me around with its burlap bag.
No wonder…Friday I spent 6 hours cleaning the house the effort of which induced muçh sweating and fatigue and yesterday, for M’s birthday, we went out twice in the cold rain, and both times I got chilled.
So now it’s Sunday in bed. Which means the 3 papillons are curled up in the quilt and Maudie is folded onto her bed n the corner. She groans and resettles. It’s not an unusual Sunday ritual, but this time I am here by edict and not by choice and the longer I can maintain the current state of restfulness and temperature, I am healing. We love when all of us are nested and still and they needn’t worry that I’ll go out without them; and I don’t have to. We are a tiny nation of nappers, of rolled up breathing, an industry of heat.
In one small boat, we float and bob over the hours as they follow one another into afternoon.
We don't have the threat of snow here, but it is rainy and gloomy. I am spending most of today getting over the sneezes and fatique of the last few days in a warm bed with four little nursemaids to heal me. Better than any medicine ever produced.
ReplyDeleteOh gloomy is yucky, but cold is fun! But damp is not.. and sick is not! :)
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