Monday, March 14, 2016
long row to hoe
in which our plucky heroine begins to recover health in a seriously incremental fashion...
I am still really weak. Recovery is proceeding on a geologic time scale, but it is happening; I guess a positive sign is that I at least be wanting to do stuff, even if not yet with enough puff to do so at all. Grateful for the continuing assistance... Jess came by today in the middle of the day, kept me company, cooked up some halloumi (from OlyWa) for my lunch, lent me Labyrinth so I had a movie to watch, washed a bunch of dishes, and encouraged me to both rest and to continue drinking tea to stay hydrated.
Had some seriously loud hail today, in several waves... there has been lots of wind and rain as is usual at this time of year, but the drumming of the hail on the steel attic ventilator turbines and carport roof was quite astonishing! Jess managed to get a photo of some of it, before it all melted away, there was quite enough to actually impede the front door for a few minutes.
I am going to wait to celebrate Pi Day till I feel well enough to bake. Yesterday I attempted to help Karen make crustless quiche, but grating the cheese was more than I had strength to do, ditto beating the half dozen eggs. I am righteously tired of being this sick and sick of being this tired... hopefully before too long I will at least have enough energy to do something other than sit, rest, shower, or sleep. Has been eleven days of sick so far, but have at least turned the corner, albeit very very slowly. Everyone says that this kind of pneumonia will require a lengthy convalescence.
Fortunately my helpful friends that were here this weekend left me a useful assortment of already cooked just needs to be heated up meal components: meatloaf, quiche, cooked winter squash, and steamed veggies. This combined with the jars of homemade soup that C made for me when I first became so ill, will keep me going for quite some time.
Extra thanks to Farbjorn last week and Freydis this week for cleanup detail, all that remains of the giant brush pile is an assortment of sticks scattered about the wakening lawn: