Sick and sleepy

Miss Polly had a dolly who was sick, sick, sick...  

Yep.  The bug hit here yesterday.  I almost feel bad.  R. was acting just crabby yesterday before school.  I gave her a good tongue-lashing and sent her on her way.  Nearly forget about the incident and head to the local mall.  Some replacement plastic thingys for our blinds were in.  Picked them up.  Then decided since I'm at the mall and because I love shopping so much I might as well take a look-see.  Went to R's favorite store and found another sweatshirt on a good clearance.  Then started to mosey around like normal people do.  My cell rings.  Hi, this is the health room calling...  no fever, but she won't move off the little bed in here.  I talk to her.  Tell her in no uncertain terms that if she isn't losing breakfast or has a fever, she must stay at school and 'be tough'.  Ok she says meekly.  Continue looking around realizing how much I really don't like shopping.  But there should be good deals, right?  About 20 minutes later the phone rings again while I stand amidst a bunch of clearance racks.  "Hi Linda, this is Linda (confusing isn't it?) from the health room.  I just took Rayna's temperature and now it is 99.5 and she's looking worse."  Ok.  It's the real thing.  I'll be there in 20 minutes and turn on my heels and leave the mall.  And that was that! My shopping for yesterday!  Darling daughter came home to sleep.  Read.  Sip a few sips of water.  And sleep some more.  This morning there is no fever.  But no energy and she keeps sleeping under a throw next to the wood stove.

I forgot about taking blackstrap molasses until I saw it rolling around the cupboard yesterday.  I'm intending to give blood in another week, so better get some iron in me.  I keep getting rejected.  Kinda like my dating years.  tee-hee.

How often do you wash your hotpads?  This is riveting stuff ain't it?  I don't nearly often enough.  They hit the ga-ross factor, so last night I threw them all in.  And cleaned out the fridge.  And washed under the garbage can area.  And the oven.  So it feels cleaner again.

Just got a blog hit this morning from Romania.  Why you ask?  Because the person was searching for 'killing my first chicken' and my blog popped up for him/her!  Yowser.  I think it was from the story when Lisi about killed a friend's chicken.  Silly Google.

Wish I could meet more of you readers (well maybe not the chicken killer from Romania).