The end is nigh

Well, this is the last Sunday I'll be posting for that stupid NaBloPoMo I signed on to do.  I'm too lazy even to link to the site as netiquette would dictate.  Hit Yoda over there on the right if yer so inclined.

Unpleasant weekend so far.  Got up early Friday morning and bundled up for the minus-20-something weather and took to the snow covered driveway with a vengeance.  Got nearly done when I heard a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at the living room window.  I turned to see my wife wielding a stricken toddler -- neither of them looked entirely well.  I went in the house to discover the tummy troubles that had, just the day before, inflicted themselves on wee Tavish had migrated to both my wife and first born son.  They were both pretty busy at both ends.

Tavish soon woke to inform us that although he may have stopped vomiting like a world champion, he could still do explosive diarrhea with his eyes closed.  Well, more scrunched-like and red-faced.  But you get the idea.

So Dad called in sick to work and shuttled between the three patients.  May I say how incredibly disgusting dogs are?  I won't provide details.

Saturday was better since Mom and Dex were also.  Time to catch up on the laundry that had been pitched down the stairs and try to keep up with Tavish who showed no signs of letting up with his efforts.  Sunday morning will hopefully provide a respite.  (It's late Saturday as I type this.)

So now I go to polish off the last of the dishes with a small sense of urgency because, once done, I plan to treat myself to a very stiff 10 year old Auchentoshan.

And you?  You get a couple pics of the boys.  Dex is holding a recent picture he drew on his magnetic board.  It looks to me like a man who is surprisingly happy after an unfortunate accident with a drill press.  And Tavish, from Saturday morning, is smiling in a sunbeam, which is just all kinds of cute.  (Click them to embiggen.)

Comments

[Moksha Gren]

I see...too tired to link to NaBloPoMo, but never so tired that you'd skip a link to a bottle of Scotch. How perfectly and wonderfully Simon.

I've got my fingers crossed that this morning finds your family in much better condition.

PS - It's quite difficult to type with a squirming 4-month old in your lap. Norah and I are letting Moonshot sleep in a little this morning...and we're both facinated by the keyboard. Norah typed,"yhjngrtg." Not sure what it means...but she says Tavish will understand.

[rna]

These generous whiskies (the single malts), with their individual flavours, recall the world of hills and glens, of raging elements, of shelter and divine ease. The perfect moment of their reception is after bodily stress-- or mental stress, if the body be sound. The essential oils that wind in the glass then uncurl their long
fingers in lingering benediction and the whole works of creation are made manifest. At such a moment, the basest man would bless his enemy.
Neil Gunn, Whiskey & Scotland, 1935

We hope you're all doing better this Sunday morning. If not, it may be time to move on to the Lagavulin.

We can't for a certainty tell
What mirth may molest us on Monday;
But, at least, to begin the week well,
Let us all be unhappy on Sunday.

Charles, Lord Neaves, 1872

[Linda]

Saying prayers for quick recoveries and that you stay healthy. I'm sure the Auchentoshan has amazing powers of immunity and powerful anti-sickness. Am I to understand that you shovelled the driveway for nothing? Bum-MER. But it's done, that's good. And I'm sure your abs are appreciating the workout. Let's hope you don't further hone them with heaving...

[marian]

Oh, baby. Wish I could be there to help you out. Or maybe not. Glad your dad was there. Nothing worse than being sick, especially puking sick, at the same time as your kids. Ugh!

And yes, I do know how disgusting dogs are. You know I do.

Here's hoping for a better Sunday!

[Simon]

Moksha, you're entirely too insightful for your own good. Somebody will be coming for you so you don't cotton on to any more of my idiosyncrasies. And having a baby in your lap while still able to use the shift key is commendable.

Rick, my cup runneth over, good man. If nothing else you always give me reason to break out my fancy Lamy fountain pen.

Linda, driveway shovelling wasn't for naught, but there's more in the forecast so the abs will continue to get the workout this week which, frankly, they need. (And no, you don't want to be here. You've done your share of poop; now it's Ju's turn.)

Marian, it wasn't my dad that was here, but 'twas me referring to myself in the third person. Something Simon does with little or no notice. Silly bugger. So far Sunday is better - Granny and Grumpy are coming to take Dex away for the afternoon and Amy is going out to do a scrap-booking show which means I can lock the dogs downstairs.

[Mark]

That "busy at both ends" business makes one feel like death is imminent. I hope you don't catch it, as you're already done the right thing and taken a day off to watch after them. I hope bosses are understanding about such things up north. Some down here are.

[Linda]

Si, you're doing too much (ie. answering too many comments at one time) Somehow you got the impression of me wanting to be there. Nope, baby, that wasn't me. ;-) Not with sick, and not with snow.
I was reading Marian thinking, wow, she's got some powers of comprehension, how did I miss Grandpa's arrival??? Glad for the clarification, thought I was losin' it...

[Alvis]

And now that you've finishe your 30 days, perhaps I'll begin mine, or not.

Bad news on the both ends thing.