So he was in his glory yesterday when the winds around here reached hurricane force. Even when the shingles started coming off the roof*, he ran about gleefully collecting the debris and taking pictures, running in now and then to report updates.
I'll let him tell you the tale of mayhem and destruction on his blog.
Me? I cleaned the living room and then -- because this is precisely when we need it -- I used this to bake this:
Heir 2 had dragged himself to school Wednesday and Thursday because of a class he didn't want to miss, then came home yesterday with yet another raging temperature. I had to put my foot down and forbid him to go today. The fact that he didn't fight me speaks to how very miserable he is.
And now Heir 1 has it also, though his is more cold-like than flu-like.
I might add that all this illness has not affected their appetites one bit.
*There is something in the attic of this house that, when a really strong gust hits it, sounds like the house has flatulence. Naturally there were the inevitable jokes that only a houseful of men can deliver. But it does seem to make that noise right when someone is trying to make a point about a controversial issue. This has been no end of amusement around here, which probably says more about our life than anything else.
Now go count some birds!
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