More snow; more sickness; more blah-blah

So, after yesterday’s warning shot across out bows, Ottawacker Jr. succumbed to the lurgy and was off school. He came downstairs around 7, installed himself in the reclining chair and promptly fell asleep, a condition he maintained flawlessly till around noon. Whereupon he declared himself to be feeling much better. There is no fever, no coughing, no signs of physical distress, so let’s just pretend he was exhausted and needed a day’s rest. It’s entirely feasible. I’m impressed he is listening to his body.
 
I’m also listening to mine. As a birthday gift to myself, I decided to jump back on the wagon and start being more deliberately healthy in my approach to life. After all, it appears we only have one. It’s been a rather slow start to my new year – still no work in, although I am not really sure I want to have it.
 
The snow continues to fall, turning from fat, fluffy flakes the size of the Orange Turd’s head to small, skinny ones, the same width as his wife’s lips. And probably her soul. I made a start on the weekly chores, tiptoeing around so as not to wake the Sleeping Beauty in the recliner, then came upstairs to ponder.
 
After some pondering, signs of life began to occur, so we took turns going down to sit with him and watch some mindless TV, bringing him various cups of honey lemon and small sweetmeats, fanning his fevered brow with a muslin cloth. Or something like that. Actually, I made him a sandwich, but that wouldn’t make for good prose.
 
In the evening, I managed to concoct a four-course meal out of leftovers (i.e., I heated up four different containers from the fridge), and we sat around for a while before going in to watch Jonathan Creek, which is so derivative of Sherlock Holmes to be untrue.