No days of work this week, even though I was called.
No guitar lesson.
No celebrating with a wee, teeny, tiny bit of vino on my birthday.
No trip to Stoon to watch the RCMP Musical Ride Tattoo {or whatever they're calling it these days}.
No hearing the bells ring in the place-where-I-worship this morning.
& I'm still not feeling any better than yesterday. I'm starting to get depressed. Am I stricken for life? Is it really the plague? Or maybe TB as Black Betty suggested.
I'll be sleeping in The Sick Room with Furry Nightingale again tonight, trying to make sure Puffy doesn't come down with this noxious disease.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Death Toll Rings On Plans
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