Sophie and her empty bowl
Yesterday I was talking to
Megan, my Austin daughter, and mentioned
that I wished I had some ginger ale because that’s what my mom always gave me
when I was sick. In a slightly amused tone, Megan said, “That’s why my mom gave
me too!” Couldn’t believe I’d forgotten that. She went on to remember that I
gave them Lipton’s chicken noodle soup from a packet. I don’t have the soup,
but either Christian or Jacob got me some ginger ale, and I’ve been guzzling
it.
Sophie still rules the roost
and doesn’t understand that I’m not following my routine. I usually go to bed
about 11:30 and give her a snack of kibble then because it’s a long time for a
girl from dinner at five to breakfast at seven. The other night I fell into bed
at nine-thirty, completely forgetting the snack. At 11:30 promptly, she woke me
up. I opened the door for her to go out, but she wasn’t interested. So I fed
her two little treats. That didn’t satisfy her either, and she went to the kitchen
corner where she usually eats. It dawned on me she wanted her kibble. Gave it
to her, and she trotted happily off to bed. Sophie has a most accurate internal
clock.
She has always disliked my being
in bed—will sometimes wake me, just to get me up. So she’s doubly unhappy these
days when I go back to bed several times a day. I don’t let her have access to
the back yard when I’m not up and keeping an eye on her, so that adds to her
frustration.
I’m glad to report I have
apparently (knock on wood) had a mild case of Covid, like a really annoying
head cold. But now I’m on the mend—ate a little bit today (not quite up to the
tuna salad in the fridge but had cottage cheese and later a buttered potato),
slept soundly, coughed less, and generally felt better. Jordan is not feeling as
much better but has no fever (I never did have). Two more days of quarantine!
Not that I expect to rush out into the world.
Have a good week, everyone.
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