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Posted on February 22, 2005 by Annie

Neverending Gory
I swear, whatever this thing – this la grippe, viris, flu, bad cold, bad attitude – whatever – is, it has the staying power of Hal the computer.

I live well for a bit, eating right, walking and doing yoga, then this thing comes back and I’m flattened for a week. My joints ache, my head hurts, I’m feverish and constantly, physically exhausted. Then it abates and the yoga cd goes back in the player, I’m out for walks again, and WHAMMO! Return of the evil fever.

Speaking with other moms from my kid’s school, this seems to be the pattern in a lot of families in our area this winter. This is a nasty, recurring, funky thing that will hit one family member, then the other, through the whole goya beanery and then start all over again. Mom, however, seems to be the constant (constant hacking cough, constant wheezing, constant stuffy nose, constant aches…)

Aren’t you glad you tuned into the blog today? Nothing like some whining to start the day right, huh?

Panera
This new venue’s working nicely for our Monday evening knitting group – and last evening as three of us were working away several folks dropped by asking if we (I) had a card – which I did – and they seemed geniunely impressed by the work our little group was doing. This week I start my new beginning class with the Adult School in South Orange. It’s been filled for a few weeks, which is nice, but a large class is VERY labor intensive. I think if I teach in this venue again I’ll rewrite my contract so I have a sliding scale of pay depending on how many students have signed up.

Pixie
Still no signs of the little girl. The good news is that we’ve been vigilant in checking with local shelters and animal control – no cats even remotely answering Pixie’s description have turned up. I feel certain in my heart that she’s found a new home somewhere (and that she’s making some other family VERY happy) I realized that I’d become resigned to this when I found myself giving Butkis (our older cat) 1/3 of the can of cat food this morning instead of his customary 1/4. Upping his portion is a way that my subconscious is coming to terms with Pixie’s absence. We are all very sad.

Burn, baby, burn!

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