I don't think we've had a day in the last month when at least one member of this family hasn't been sick. When I think we've done with the last of it, we come down with something new. For people who never go anywhere, we sure get sick a lot.
During a lull (at least I felt OK) I made it over to the yearly KZUM book sale fundraiser. The find-of-the-day was a stack of pristine Jack and Jill Magazines from 1964-1966. The puzzles weren't even marked. Then, I hit the record bins. At ten for a dollar in the waning hours of the sale, I came home with a stack of fantastic vinyl. My turntable was a casualty of the tornado, but after four years, I think it high time to replace it-now I have a proper incentive.
Oh, and books! You know I bought books. Dear God, I bought some books. Very many books. The problem of course is that it is a bag sale, and you feel pressured to fill the bags as well as possible. Mr. ETB reckons this was probably the only time many of those titles were carried in the same bag. I told him not to buy the Wittgenstein book, but I never imagined I'd need to warn him off the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I chalk it up to his having a fever. At least he appreciated the absurdity.
During the first bout of plague, or whatever the hell we have, Danny was too weak to do much save for lying in bed eating ice cream. I put in Fantasia for him to watch, and he adored it. Ordinarially, Danny would have met it with a shrug, but sick in bed, in a dark room, I think he was actually in a better mood to appreciate the movie. I'm pretty sure he watched it as a toddler, but didn't have any memory of it. This time around, if he ends up camped out in my bed I have a copy of Jacques Tati's, Playtime. I think that's perfect viewing with a high fever, especially the bit with the carousel of cars.
Ah well, I'm off to freeze ginger ale in a metal tray to make invalid slushies.