Sick in Suburbia

This holiday has really thrown me for a loop. I haven't been this sick in donkey's years. The good thing about being sick is that it has forced me to slow down; to stop. Just stop. I've spent many hours just thinking, praying, thinking, and praying some more. I think it's been good for me. Of course the vicoden helps put me into that reflective frame of mind. It does an excellent job of taking the pain away. But I tend to get a sick-to-my-stomach feeling, too. That could be from the antibiotics, though. Either way, I've got meds to help me through and I'm on the road to recovery. I've written pages and pages in my paper journals, and I even read a book (Lamb, by Christopher Moore, subtitled The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal). The book was something that would probably offend some or many mainstream Christians, but I enjoyed it. Moore did his research well, which impressed me. It's a down to earth and funny story. Okay, so the conservative Christian in me had a hard time with a few places here and there, but all in all it was well done, and I have to say I am impressed --the man had to have done some extensive study of scriptures to come up with the tale he spun.

Lady Linoleum has a daunting and impressive list of resolutions. I was thinking of putting some together, but am waffling now. Maybe tomorrow I'll give it some more thought.

The year is coming to a close. I haven't even made a post about our Christmas. That's the problem with being sick. Too sick to even blog. What is the world coming to?

My husband, the cool cat, every once in a while makes a comment that I must only post pictures of things that are important to me on my blog, and wonders why there are no pictures of him. "I see how it is," he says. Of course, he won't be looking over my shoulder when I post this picture, so he won't know that he has, in fact, appeared on my blog.
My bestest boys, Santa and the slobber Elf (Christmas Eve at Grandma's house). They're both pretty cute, I have to say.