Please forgive my inattentiveness. I have been sick. In the midst of being sick, the painting on one of the soaring triangles of my ceiling was scheduled. I over did it moving books and bookcases. Then I over did it after the painting was finished, cleaning things before putting them back. I mopped floors. All of this you know, but I have neglected you. I haven't visited. I haven't left you the love notes disguised as comments that you so richly deserve. Please forgive me.
The weather has been dreadful, either snowing or raining. Yes we need the water, but just when my pear tree budded the weather turned treacherous and we've had hard freezes at night. So much for a nice crop of pears.
And I have amazing things to tell you. Oh yes, even sick life swirls around me, and offers come I can't refuse. I should be confined to my bed, but my Imac is not in my bed. So commenting will be sparse for a few more days.
And then I must tell you all about Ricardo. I'm hoping he'll be my future son in law. Oh if only your daughters would let you arrange their marriages they wouldn't marry schmucks. Ms. M says, "Would you have dated a man your mother picked out for you?" And I say, "You wouldn't ask that question if you'd known my mother. She was a crazy bitch." Ms. M smiles and cocks an eyebrow in my direction and says nothing more on the subject. This is just the beginning of a very long story.
Now I have to get my orange juice and crawl back in bed. I've heated the newest sleep mask Ms M gave me at Christmas time. This is the first time I've had sinus pain in a very long time. But I'm so glad to have the comfort of this new sleep mask. Sky lights make it impossible to get this place dark in the daytime. Light is hurting my head. Every muscle and joint aches, and I'm running a low grade fever. Thankfully the mad dashes for the crapper have ceased. But now I'm either drenched in sweat or shivering. And I hate being sick. I still owe Nick a birthday celebration.
But don't be mad at me for not visiting you. If I had a laptop I could drag into bed with me. I'd be blog hopping like mad.
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15 comments:
My rage at your inattentiveness burns hotter than a thousand bright suns, yet I forgive you unconditionally in all my splendiferous magnanimity.
;>)
Yeah, what the Canuck said.
Bless you my sons. I'm only stopped at my desk on my way to the crapper. Don't think I'm sneaking over here just to see if anyone really loves me.
Hi Peggy,
I'm sorry to hear you're not feeling well. It sounds like you really did overexert yourself!
I keep wanting to comment on your entries but every time I go to your journal my computer resources max out and freeze it up and I can't.
I wanted to say, especially (since I've managed to get a comment screen) that I didn't agree with some of what your "expert" reviewer said when critiquing your first chapters of Maggy. There was a part that I thought was perfectly written that the reviewer took issue with, saying something like the matter of factness of the scene did not jibe with the later expressed freak out. All that told me was that the review has probably never gone through a childhood molestation. I thought your depiction was dead on. Those kinds of liberties are taken in the most casual way, and a child naturally trusts her parents and caregivers. It's only later that you know that you've been robbed and what you've been robbed of. As a child, you just think,"This is the way it is"
On another note I wanted to ask if you've ever read Walter Benton's poetry. I bought up two copies of This Is My Beloved yesterday in a used bookstore and I thought of you. So if you have and liked him, or haven't and think you might like his poetry there is a copy and some potato chip chocolate chips cookies with your name on them. If you tell me where to send them
chin up...tits out...
What LeAnn said, cept fer the cookies.
oh LeeAnn my sweet. I know and you know that that scene was dead on. I did take solace from the second reviewer saying "she" (i assume it was a she--who knows why) that she was interested in continuing reading.
I am not familiar with Walter Benton, and I'd love some cookies. I'll email you.
Stay in bed, yet near the crapper if necessary...but heal thyself! We need you back in full force. Cut down on the work - as I always say, it is definitely "hazardous to your health."
It may be just as well at this moment that you don't have a laptop since at least you really will be getting some well needed rest.
Take good care of yourself as a gesture of good will to the many of us who care for you.
Seriously, I caught some damn virus from my kids and typing is freaking hell. Feel like crap with a coughing and chills and when I get up I'm dizzy as hell. I've been doing some heavy NyQuil chugs to get rest but the dreams have been freaky. Bush and Palin kissing in a tree while McCain and Romney dress up like Carmen Miranda dancing the tango.
May start doing tequila if I don't feel better soon.
Beach I feel your pain.
Oh no! I hope you're feeling better soon. I've got to go read your earlier posts to catch up!
Sorry you're still not feeling well.
(((Big Hugs)))
Love Laura
Ouch. I hope you feel better soon and rejoin all your blogging pals. Remember--chicken soup might not help...but it wouldn't hurt.
It's totally fine, friend. I've been totally overextended and pressed for time myself.
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