Gifts for Sickly Gentlemen and Countertop Dishwashers

[radiantfracture]

Eustace Scrubb has a dashing new bow tie and is quite chuffed.



I, on the other hand, am ghastly ill. It began yesterday morning as I set out for home by car, ferry, taxi, and helicopter (and another taxi, very late); it progressed to full fever and chills last night. I couldn't get warm for hours, and when I got up occasionally to see if the world were still there, the way it rocked and shook and slid away was not at all reassuring.

I managed a sort of sleep by playing West Wing Weekly episodes on endless loop; Hrishi and Josh carried me across the night.

Sometime before dawn I think the fever broke. Today I am definitely ill, but not staggering about as aboard a listing freighter on the wilder sea. I have only little rushes of faintness, as though I were flickering between matter and spirit manifestations.

I have accomplished very little today other than making a few things slightly cleaner than they were before -- and it was largely Eustace who did that.

I did receive some terrific books this year, most of which I am too groggy to read right now:



...The perennial problem of what to do on New Year's is solved, anyway.

{rf}