We’re over the stomach flu, but Tim is in the hospital with a mysterious Staph infection in his knee (possibly MRSA).  He’s been there since Saturday night, on IV antibiotics.  We are in Survival Mode.  I pulled a deer tick out of A’s neck yesterday with my eyebrow tweezers.  She yelped and yanked away, and the tick head is still embedded in her skin.  

The six chickens escaped while I was with T. at the hospital.  Pop (helped by A. and C.) somehow collected them and put them all back inside their fencing.  Supposedly A. picked up a chicken by the tail and chucked it over the fence.  I can’t believe my sensitive, melodramatic, fearful-of-cows-mooing girl actually picked up a chicken.  I’m proud of her.  I also consider it a triumph that all six chickens are still here and alive. 

The grass is overdue for a mowing and the vegetable garden needs weeding and planting.  The new sunflower house is but a dream at the back of my mind.  I’m behind on my writing deadlines and haven’t done any yoga in a week.  Still, everyone is alive including myself.  I am incredibly grateful to my family for coming to help during a crisis.  It’s wonderful to feel that solid support behind us.

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