It is 5:10 AM and thanks to my cat I am serving breakfast, heating up soup for me and generally feeling disgruntled. Why he demands food at this hour is beyond me. My coughing is the only thing breaking the quiet. Considering that I live mere feet from an eight-lane road with traffic in both directions, this is a rarity.
For the past few nights an owl has made its presence known outside my bedroom window. I find it comforting to know that nature exerts an upper hand even amid suburban neon. The trees here, which people complain about stupidly, enable his existence.
The day promises to be warmer than it has been and though cloudy, no rain is in our forecast. Yesterday was jacket weather, the kind I dream of during the summers here. I will get out for a bit of sun.
What will you do? Whatever that may be, enjoy.
Thanks for the wonderful holiday wishes. Unfortunately, it was a non-starter as yours truly remained in bed, coughing so badly that I could not eat. This week has been spent pushing fluids, expelling copious amounts of phlegm and sleeping with the aid of cold medicine.
The friend at whose home Thanksgiving dinner was held has been generous in supplying leftovers including a wonderful matzo ball soup containing chicken and vegetables and lots of beautiful broth.
As of now, I can complete most routine tasks and eat, so things are improving. The cat no longer casts worried looks in my direction and I can speak without interruption if need be. Soup remains my go-to liquid as the weather has cooled and my apartment is often noticeably chilly.
Waking hours, though few, have been spent with the mundane. At some point, my key ring went missing and despite an all-out search, remains so. Spare keys did not include those for the outdoor mailbox, so this morning I met with a locksmith and for the not inconsiderable amount of $100, I had both new lock and keys within the hour. I have no idea how exactly a woman who has not been beyond her walls except to take out garbage loses keys, but I'm fortunate to be able to remedy the situation quickly.
On another subject, my foray into paternal heritage has taken me back to parts of Europe I'd never suspected and points to patterns of both immigration and later migration southward I've yet to fully untangle. How many of you have ever known who your eighth great grandmother was? Much of my family history on this continent also takes me to another state, so I am attempting to visit its history during the American Revolution and before. I've also found who I believe to be the first among my ancestors to own slaves, a sobering realization. More will be revealed, of that I am certain.
