I should post all about side effects in the side effects section, but let us just say me and dairy. Bad. I love cereal and milk. We must break up. Provolone on a sandwich. No longer.
Yesterday we actually had a sitter! (Katie, who we love, but she is a senior and going to DC for midterm. Her career with us is short but cool). I was ready to bail, but Steve gently nudged to go out despite being up with Paco the night before.
Wednesday night, for dessert, Paco ate too many berries. We let it go, we warned him it would make him ill, but he proceeded with 1 pint of blueberries and 1 pint of blackberries. By midnight, he made it to the bathroom, puking, on his own. We were impressed. By morning, he had thrown up a majority of berries. And he was strong. Made it to the bowl or the porcelain bowl every time. I thought for sure it was something I had eaten too, but no, it was just a fruitful indulgence.
So Thursday, we met our beloved friends Carolina and Germán Scipioni. They live in San José and Walnut Creek was an ideal halfway. I was probably driving them crazy, but it was a lovely night and a remberance of how life used to be and how it will be again. (Nancy, good call on Primavera!).
Today, I was actually up and active (though in the house) most of the day. It was too cold for me, I admit. I love cold, but with no hair I was wearing a cap all day. I have not been able to walk much, mostly due to proximity to a bathroom. But that is just something I need to figure out.
There is much I need to express, but tonight, I just want to say thanks for all the hearts and prayers. I don’t know where this community came from, but not a minute goes by that I am not grateful.
I remembered the news of the day. In Cork, Ireland, the flooding (as in much of England) is massive. And I decided to call whatever cousin I could get. I got Mary, who is my age. And we picked up our conversation as though it had been 2 weeks since we talked, not over 2 years. Cork is in for a challenging week, the hospital is shut to non-emergencies and they are shuttling employees in by boat. Today, my heart is with my poetic homeland. It always is. I even asked the priest I know who is going there next week to touch the ground. He is from Wicklow, not Cork, but full of life none-the-less.
To sleep early. I actually want to make Steve a cappuccino tomorrow morning for the 3rd day in a row. It is the small victories. Love, Erin
PS: A few photos to mark the good life: