Stamina

     Somehow I thought once my mother left and I went back to work, that I would be fully recovered. But it takes time to get over it if you've been sick this long. I can make it through work, but I still need a nap every day, and I get a bit winded walking the dog. I really want to get back to biking to work, but I'm going to need to wait a few days longer before I can contemplate it.
     Even without a lot of energy, I'm still making progress on the bathroom. I'm in the process of buying all the stuff that I'll need, which unfortunately reminds me how much I dislike shopping. I suspect that only people who are unhappy with their toilets write reviews about them, so every possible choice seems like a disaster waiting to happen. I think I have pretty low standards, since my main goal is to find a toilet that won't leak after a year but will in fact continue to whisk away the waste without multiple flushes. After spending a few hours reading reviews, though, even that seems like a pipe dream.
      If this seems like a lot of hassle, I just imagine how much I'll be boring my guests with bathroom stories in the future. Right now, I always take guests down to the basement to show them my plumbing. In future years, they will have to suffer through scintillating stories of whole-house plumbing and toilet installation.

Observations from a sickbed

     I haven't posted in three weeks because I kept hoping something interesting would happen. Alas, I lead a prosaic life. I got sick AGAIN. I just got over what I thought was the flu (in spite of the vaccine) in February, and less than a month later, here I am again. I won't bore you to death with lots of details, but I haven't been this sick in years. I've had a fever for six days. In fact, I couldn't even walk downstairs and make breakfast without stopping to rest once or twice, and I gave up completely on unimportant things like bathing or walking the dog. I think it was that final item that really got my mother's sympathies - when she heard I was sick, she packed up and drove eight hours the next day to take care of me. And let me tell you, you are never too old to disdain a mother's ministrations.
     She's still here, and today she has managed to walk the dog, buy me groceries, and plant peas in my garden. Right now she's making me dinner. I feel really lucky.