You know you're sick when Calliou is all you feel like watching on television, followed by Ozzie and Harriet. That's about as much as my brain will wrap itself around. I spoke too soon on Monday when a church friend called and asked how we were doing. "Howard's still not feeling well, but I am fine!" I assured her. He had come home from Georgia with whatever they were getting over there when we left. I thought I had gotten off scot free, but Monday night I was aching in every joint.
Painkilllers, decongestant, and nasal spray keep me comfortable and instill a false sense of wellness until the Tylenol wears off, which is usually late afternoon or night. Yesterday I convinced my husband I felt well enough for an outing to Stillwater for lunch and a bit of Christmas browsing. "Let's stop and see if the new TJMaxx is open!" I suggested on seeing it on the way in. He said we would stop on the way out, but I was worn out by then and forgot about it. We had to stop at a service station on the way home for a packet of Tylenol.
I have been using these wellness plateaus to make a stab at wrapping gifts, after which I am exhausted and fairly useless. I really must get back into the habit of cooking, but we have no appetite. Howard was sick for a week, refusing ordinary food but requesting far-fetched delicacies, then only picking at them when he got them.
I did make a simple supper last night, which he nibbled at even though he hadn't wanted anything. Today he bought a couple of boxes of macaroni and cheese, which I prevailed upon him to make for supper. He told me he didn't know how, which I believed after I saw he had poured the noodles into maybe a cup of water in a tiny saucepan. He defended himself saying I shouldn't have put that chore on him, and I yelled (my pain talking), that even a 5-year-old can make macaroni and cheese. It turned out okay after he transferred it to another pan with more water.
At the end of the day, I was feeling guardedly well enough to ride in the car with him when he went to feed the chickens. The weather was cold, grey, and misting a little, making it seem Christmasey, at least. I stayed in the car and saw his excitement at finding 5 eggs in the nests. The chickens have been on strike with the shorter days and a change of feed. We started their regular egg-laying regimen again and they are rewarding us with these little gems, worth $5 apiece, easily.
Tonight makes the second Christmas party we have missed this week. Even though we had looked forward to going, we had to stay home. The annual city Christmas parade was held tonight, also, and it reminded me of the excitement around our house when the kids were young. A hurried supper, riding to town and standing with friends in the shivering, jostling crowds was invigorating and not to be missed in those days. Once our 14-year-old daughter even rode her horse the three miles to town and joined in the parade right behind Santa Claus. Maybe she is taking in a parade with her grandchildren and her own young daughter in Tennessee tonight. Her father and I have been temporarily sidelined.
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