these last few days have found me sick with flu. It is not atypical for me to get sick with the change in season, yet, for the last couple of years, I have done well to stave off any serious, debilitating illnesses. The last time I was struck with the flu, it turned to pneumonia. I remember trying to climb the stairs to go to bed and almost suffocating. At that point, I decided I ought to go to the hospital.

While this bout will not progress to that point, since I am already on the upswing to recovery, this past week has left me feeling quite miserable. I experienced the full gamut of symptoms: headache, congestion, clogged sinuses, joint pain, muscle aches, fever, incessant coughing. I consider myself lucky that it did not progress into a more serious affliction, for I was in the position of having to work through most of it.

Working with youth, I am susceptible to all viral infections of the day. This time, I guess my resistance was low. With the stress of disharmony throughout the past month or so, there is little doubt as to why my system was not prepared to wage internal war. There was too much of it going on externally.

I am on the mend.

We are on the mend.

All is calm and peaceful on every front.

Lending readily, happily, pleasantly, thankfully, to the domestic bliss of late is the fact that The Goddess got a job. A couple of weeks ago, she was hired as a casual in a residential facility for Young Offenders. They were highly impressed with her qualifications, and when a full time position became open last week, she applied, was interviewed, and told Friday that they did not want to let her get away; they needed experienced, new blood in the facility. So, she will be alternating days and evenings, and the job comes with a full benefits package. The remuneration is not near what she was getting for similar work in Ontario, but with the group benefits, we will save over $200.00 per month alone for medications.

Six of one, half dozen of the other.

Blessed be.

October is upon us. Outside, the temperature dips to freezing at night now, and what was left in our garden that was not harvested has succumbed to frost. There are a couple of exceptions. The cosmos still sports new blooms every morning; they seem impervious to the foreshadowing of winter. The carnations are hanging on tight, threatening to blossom any day now, if they can just hold on a little longer. His favorite flower, they were to be a gift to Alyx. How wonderful it would be if they were to bloom by this coming weekend when we gather to celebrate the end of his chemotherapy, the finale of a poignant chapter in his life.

The splendor of the garden has been replaced by a now fervor of color on the season's foliage. Being consumed by the blast of reds, yellows, golds, coppers, and browns makes the hibernation of our little patch of plants all that more endurable. The harvest, in full swing now, makes the week's wait for Thanksgiving that much more arduous. Already I can smell the savory scent of roast turkey basting in the oven, while pots of yams, turnip, parsnips, potatoes, squash, and cranberries alternately simmer on the stove top.

I do not forget the privilege this is.

The lawn may get mowed a time or two more, there may be another bucket or two for the compost, the wildflowers may surprise us with one more flower, Reekie and Moo may still enjoy a romp or two in the crackling leaves, yet Winter snores no longer, while most other life is now beginning to yawn.

 

Be Well