Since last Wednesday night I have been grappling with either the world’s worst cold or a case of strep. Probably the latter.
I called a friend from church on Wednesday evening and told her I wouldn’t be at knitting in the morning, and spent most of Thursday curled up in bed with hot tea and warm oatmeal.
The Squire kept me well supplied with books, tissues, and soft food. I’ve eaten a lot of scrambled eggs this week, I’ll tell you! He even fixed me what passes for scrapple in our house, bless him. Oh, I am so lucky to be married to that man!
When you come down to it, I felt well enough to go to church this morning, but I can’t talk (oh! the horror!) and we’ll just draw a curtain over my attempts to sing. I had called a friend to serve as chalice bearer this morning, but he sent me an email at 10:05 saying he wouldn’t make it. (Seervices start at 10:00, so that was no help at all.) If I’d known in time, I’d have shoveled myself into a heap and gone anyway. As long as somebody else read for me, we’d have managed.
I already have an appointment with the doctor for tomorrow, so while he checks my latest meds, I can have him take a look as my throat.
thisendoftheswamp 
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