Shattered

I’m sorry for the lack of posts at the moment. I am still feeling awful after that virus. Last week the virus was a bit like that one in Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon story, The Speeding Ticket -

It’s the usual flu with chills, fever…achiness and personal guilt, but it’s accompanied by an overpowering urge to put things in order. Before you collapse into bed, you iron the sheets. Before you vomit, you plan your family’s meals for the upcoming week.

This week i don’t want to do any of that. I want to sit around and watch old episodes of Frasier. And I have a recurring yen for plates of roast meat and gravy – like my mother used to make.