I'm pretty sure now that my "cold" was just my regular late winter/early spring allergy attack. I saw the tell-tale yellow pine pollen around the storm drain after Monday's heavy rain. It feels like a hangover with a cough and a runny nose. My voice today was no more than a croak.
I am on annual leave this week. When you've been a public servant as long as I have, the annual leave begins to pile up unless you take a week or so every quarter. I might as well enjoy it. It is one of the "perks" of government work, in lieu of fame and fortune.
I thought I might whip the yard into shape this week, but winter persists. Tuesday brought a balmy reprieve, and our cat Claudius sunned himself, watched the migrating birds and chased a young opossum into a hollow stump. Today brought rain and temps in the forties. Mr. C. was content with a brief time on the front door mat before coming back inside.
I finished William Boyd's Ordinary Thunderstorms, a British comic novel about an academic who is mistakenly implicated in a murder, and who goes into hiding among London's down & out to try to clear himself. The victim, a medical researcher, has in reality been rubbed out by Big Pharma. After the initial murder, I was afraid this one might be too dark, but I stuck with it and liked it very much. I have to name William Boyd as one of my top authors. Any Human Heart is one of my favorite novels of all time.
Ronda landed just after six with a bottle of my favorite tipple, Black & White scotch. The local ABC has been out recently, and I've had to settle for Ballantine's. She then produced a scrumptious supper of Fricadelles de Veau, (veal and ham patties), with braised green beans and roasted fingerling potatoes. I'm not worthy.
Finally, my big sister Carol, an old campaigner for Barack Obama in the last election, was a driver in the motorcade for his recent visit to Tampa, and got her picture taken.
She's right next to Joe Biden, with her long tresses. Go Carol!
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