The Report

I've been without reliable internet service for a couple of weeks. (A handy cable plug in provided by my handy husband has resolved that issue now) Instead of surfing, reading and writing in the blogdom of my life I have been *ahem* accomplishing other things.

For instance the ironing basket now stands empty and the closets are full of freshly pressed clothing. (I am kind of thinking no one should wear any item of said pressed clothing, since it all looks so nice in the closet. Also, I am thinking of imposing a moratorium on further clothes getting dirty and thus needing washing and ironing...)

Also, in my web-less time away, I have been reading.
Mmmmm.... reading, reading, reading.
3 novels to be exact. 2 which I thought were good, 1 which I felt was phenomenal.
And? I have devoured cover to cover, 3 hand-me-over New Yorker magazines sent in a care package by a wonderful friend in the states.

The recovery from bronchitis (two-rounds of antibiotics later) seems to be nearly complete. Of course, as it seems wont to do in this house, my return to health is echoed by Andrew's descent into CAMP ILLNESS (where, let's be honest, he is a frequent visitor) and just yesterday afternoon as we waited in the doctor's office I discovered his body was covered in itchy-burny-angry-red-rash. In addition to that apparent viral infection he's fighting there is also the set of infected ears, a ruby red throat, and a chest infection! (Is there a prize for most infections when you see the doc?)

So, we are home together this week. (While I find it a point of pride to press forward and work through my own sick days, when my baby is sick, it's a different story.) And the good news? It looks like we may be joined soon by sick Emma and sick Ian.

Because sharing is what this family is all about.