I had my fingers crossed for the Winter season to avoid the flu at all possibilities. Drink extra vitamin C. Eat an apple a day. Wash my hands religiously. December, no. January, no. February, stronger than ever. March introduced itself with heavy rains, silent retreats, and the inevitable flu.The son started with drainage in (both) eyes. Pink eye. Sniffles. Congested nostrils. And all other unpleasantness followed. Last week, all my efforts availed me, and the flu made its rotation from one child, to the other child, and to me.
A week and a half of flu recovery, and then the Japanese crisis, the ordeal had me reevaluating, prioritizing family goals, and my time. Despite the overshadowing of melancholy, this week has been a celebratory-one-of-sorts as well. The husband was promoted. Our wedding anniversary was commemorated. A homemade, fresh cheese was frequently made and eaten. Pickling vegetables. Baking. A marriage retreat to Unicoi National Park. And, seedlings ready for transplant.
I'm finding strength in the unlikeliest of places.
