Pete was kinda sick and mopey the end of last week, Scott was sick this week, so it’s now time for me to be dying of a cold. Ready to down a vat of Nyquil and crawl into bed. So let’s make this quick, shall we?
This week I worked a lot (lots of craziness going on, but a temp. is on the way next week and THANK GOD, one week of that kind of crazy was enough for me). By Saturday, I had this super-duper-cleaning itch and so scrubbed down the bathrooms and polished furniture and all that good stuff. Pre-illness energy kick, perhaps? When Pete went down for a nap I headed out to get some goodies at Brennan’s and realized the aches and sore throat were settling in. Wee. We were going to hit up the apple orchard that afternoon but the way I was feeling, the best I could handle was a walk to the neighbhorhood park.
And my son is full-on in the independent-dress-myself stage, so pardon the weird outfits we have going on. I can usually talk him into a few things and then he adds his own ‘flare’. Like that jacket and hat and boots.
There are a lot of trees lining the park and I found this little path through them, down to a pond. Kinda cool little hidden space. Made a mental note to come back down in the morning sometime, when the light is just right in there. Bonus if it’s foggy like we’ve been having a lot this fall.
For some reason, I hit this ‘I have a wicked sore throat but otherwise feel AWESOME!” point around 10pm. Scott went to bed and I sat up and watched TV into the wee hours (Fringe reruns, YES) and then had really weird dreams that I was told I had cancer and 1 week to live but I was all DUDE ARE YOU SURE BECAUSE SERIOUSLY I FEEL A SORE THROAT AND THAT’S IT SO THAT’S KINDA WEIRD and anyway. The morning came way too quickly and staying up was a bad idea.
I am a rockstar and still made breakfast – The Pioneer Woman’s cinnamon toast recipe. Which is my go-to when I’m just not feeling the urge to make anything too elaborate, and it’s always gone in no time. I have never been too impressed with her recipes but this one is a keeper. And oddly enough, turns out even better with that healthy somewhat-dry sprouted-grain bread crap my husband buys. Go figure.
I felt much better that morning, so we headed to the apple Orchard. The Eplegaarden is right over in Fitchburg. So we went and picked and snacked on Cortlands while we picked.
I made the mistake of referring to it as “apple hunting” when talking to Pete. He grabbed a stick and told us it was his gun, and shot away. Lovely.
So: there you go. Got home and felt yucky again, snuggled in at home the rest of the day. The end. Oh and finally went out and got Pete a down comforter, and he was immediately enamored of it and calls it “marshmallow billy” and won’t let us put the cute duvet cover on it. So that should be nice and filthy in no time.
Have a great week, all!