First pink blossoms on the peach tree outside the kitchen window. Reward for weeks of rain.

It would be inaccurate to say I was sick as a dog last weekend. Dogs don't complain. Not to be dramatic or anything, but this flu made me feel like I was being crucified. I hurt so much I couldn't even read. That was probably a good thing. I lay on the bed and listened to Mozart while C looked at me pityingly and occasionally brought glasses of water and Ny-Quil.

I developed a taste for Ny-Quil. The miny flavor's not bad.

Today I am breathing through both nostrils. My body is so glad to be moving once more, going up and down stairs, any little thing.

I am still finding more poems for Love Shack, and more reaons to procrastinate doing anything else. Coffee tastes sweet. Everything tastes sweet. I am so grateful to be healthy again.