More of the same

The inexorable slog through the swampy morass of substandard health at the Fraser house continues into this week, not satisfied with last week's conquest.  Not even visitors are immune.

My brother visited earlier in the week.  He normally works two-week stints in the even more frozen hinterland of far northern Alberta (the mud from which I happily scraped off my own heels a few years ago), and then comes home to some semblance of society and fraternization in the big city.  And to see his nephews, who adore him.  He will regularly visit during the day, and I'll come home none the wiser about his presence unless informed by my wife or offspring.  (Which is sometimes sort of frustrating, because I like my brother a whole lot more now that I used to.  So seeing him would be a good thing.)

Uncle Buster was over Monday evening and I abused his presence to help me move the old, clunky, energy-pig of a deep freeze out of the basement, into the back of my truck, and to lug in the newer (but still used) upright freezer I bought for cheap off a co-worker.  By the end of the ordeal he was puffing and panting more severely than his nicotine habit could even account for.  (It's just about a law here in Alberta, you understand: if you work in any sort of trade, you have to smoke.  Buster is a welder.)

He spent the next several hours laid out on our couch downstairs, moaning pitiably and with a puke bucket beside his head.  (You know, just in case.  I mean the carpet's brand new fer krissake!)  He managed to heave himself back upstairs about the same time the boys went down for bed.  He mentioned, quietly, that he cleaned up after himself downstairs, and even screwed the door back into the frame that had to be removed to get the new freezer in.  What a trooper!

And now that Buster's all better, wee Declan left a lung in his bedroom when he woke up Wednesday morning.  Glued to his bedsheets with snot, no doubt.  We hope that reinsertion at bedtime tonight will be amply lubricated by the additional mucous he's been producing all day.  In the words of my wife when she called to update me on his condition (both of us grateful that he was kept home from preschool today), "He's just lying there looking pitiful, Si."

But good news is on the horizon!  The annual Burns Night supper I attend at the end of every January is only nine days away.  Kilts and bagpipes and haggis and scotch and comely nimble lasses prancing gaily over crossed claymores.  (Oh my!)  A more wonderful evening is hard to fathom, n'est-ce pas?

I don't think I'll be taking pictures this year, cumbersome as my new camera is.  (There are only so many places to store things when you're wearing a kilt, ya know!)  But to get a taste for what awaits me, you can see what I penned and posted from last year's, thither.  It has a neat little video snip I cobbled together.  I love the snare drum solo.

Comments

[Émilie B]

Oh my, I sure hope bacteria finds some incentive to desert your abode for a little while once Dex gets better. Get well soon, wee Fraser!

PS. "n'est-ce pas?"

[Mark]

Yeah, our little tike has been under the weather. Frought with mucous and sporting a fever that seemed to know no bounds (hit 104.7 F before we even knew he was sick!), the little guy was up, down, often filling his bed with sweat when he'd break his fever at night. The next day we'd think he was okay, and then the fever returned. Doctor said no flu, no strep (they tested for them), and sent us home with the age-old instruction, "Drink plenty of fluids and get plenty of rest."

So, Ben did at least one of those (you can lead a kid to water, too, apparently), and after about five days finally was fever-free.

Sucks when your wee one is ill.

Go Burns Night! Just because you have a big honkin' camera now doesn't mean you have to forget you still have a little one. Come one, we need pics!! Or is it a matter of not wanting to incriminate anybody? Boys getting old enough now that you might embarrass them?

[marian]

I was standing in the grocery store the other day getting something for dinner and bumped into a friend who was just recovering from some kind of upper respiratory thing. He said, "I feel like I'm always sick."

And I thought, fool that I am, "Gee, I haven't had a cold in a really long time—can't remember the last time! Feel kind of guilty about that."

Needless to say, next day I woke up sick. So—my commiserations. Hope everyone is all better soon! And hope you're feeling tip top for Burns Day.

[Moksha Gren]

It's been a rougher winter than I can remember in recent years. My wife has been down with illness of one kind or another about 4 times, myself twice, and Little Lutine a smattering herself. Very unusual for the typically resistant grens.

I had nearly forgotten about the upcoming Burns Night. I'm saddened there will be no pictures this year, but look forward to the stories none-the-less.

Get well, Frasers (even Uncle Buster)

[Simon]

Émy, thank you. Correction pending.

Mark, I think the fever would be worse that the snotty noses and coughing we've been dealing with. Kids running a high temperature are always scarier than the other sick symptoms. Unless they start developing vampiric powers. then I'd really be scared.

Marian, everyone is already starting to feel better. We have two humidifiers running in the house as I speak (write) to ward off the incredibly dry air we have all winter and hopefully relieve some of the coughing. And NOTHING could prevent me from attending my Burns Supper!

Moksha, having been chided by both you and Mark now, I may feel pressured enough to tote my camera along to the hotel and snap a few shots of haggis, dancing, piping, kilted gents and a room full of flags and old men. Like, really old. I think the median age there every year is somewhere in the 70s.

[Dave]

I hope everyone feels better soon there Simon...

Have a great weekend...