Chickens

Tim was home sick for two days. Poor thing just lay on the couch and moan. The moaning usually started when I entered any room he was in. Now I am feeling sick. Not terrible but just enough to let me know what well feels like.

This was probably a good thing because it forced me to settle and do a little research nd dig out the rest of the laundry. I also cooked buckets of soup. Soup always makes Tim stop whining.
Clean sheets help too.

He decided that he wanted to leave Vancouver and raise chickens again. He wanted to move to Alaska and do this. His life, he says, is getting meaningless. I know he is sick. Two days ago he loved his job. He was thrilled at our family and loved his new involvement in sculpture and design. Nothing can be more unpredictable than a plus fifty man with a runny nose and back pain. Sheeeessshhh!

I spent the day feeling decidely unartistic. More or less unhip and sloggy. Kinda older and used up. I really just spent the day fighting for couch, bed covers or the remote.

Vivian called and we further designed the underwater costume. I can even teach her how to do things by telephone. She is truly amazing.

Once I taught a "hot textiles" class and one of my enthusiatic students threw a smoldering sample into a bin of other fabric. We ended up smoking out the school, the administration staff and half killed the other students. Lesson learned " Always seperate your fabrics and leave them in front of you near your personal bucket of water."

I need a hot toddy but breast cancer people aren't really supposed to drink so I'll just make some tea. Tea with a shot!