Struck down!

by the evil Stomach Flu. This will forever be known, the history of the Wambekes, as the winter of death. Ana has now had the E.S.F. four times this winter, Dan once (silly fortified Honey Nut Cheerios), me twice (and have never had it before), and Toby a resounding once (I say resounding because it was worse than anything). What is the deal anyhow? So, for almost a straight week I've been on the couch in pain. Today, finally, I can move around without being doubled over.

And now, allow me to take the opportunity to sing the praises of my in-laws and my husband (once again). Dan Sr. and Helen have been here nearly everyday helping me and Dan with the children and general upkeep of the house. Because not only was there just day to day living to attend to, there was also weekend guests (which was a wonderful diversion incidentally), and lots of sap boiling in the meantime. How my seventy five year old mother in law can keep up with two small children and all the housework is beyond me. Not only that, but two nights, the children slept with her, in her bed, at her house! And I'm including Toby when I say "the children". Mister Nocturnal. Mister I Can't Sleep. Mister Tell Me About Your Dream and I'll Tell You About Mine. I'm already beginning to collect documentation when it comes for her cause for canonization. Dan Jr. has taken two days off of work to make sure everything goes smoothly here and to take me to and from and to and from the doctor. Oh, and then there's my own parents who are coming down tomorrow so my mom can cook me up some good Thai food! My stomach is grumbling for a lot of that.

Anyhow, Dan and his dad are just wrapping up this years syruping. The tally is around 900 gallons of sap, and about 20 gallons, probably more, of syrup.

All this laying around waiting for my stomach to go back to normal has afforded me a little time for reading. Which is precious these days. I settled upon St. Francis of Assisi by G.K. Chesterton. Now, I like Chesterton, but his writing style is different from what I'm used to. I like straight to the point, tell it like it is, don't go meandering on me, writing. Chesterton doesn't write like this. But I still really enjoyed reading his book. It made me want to expand my vocabulary and wish that I had more interesting things to say for one. And for another, it was truly an inspiring read and will be on my mind for weeks to come, no doubt. I would like to read it again some day, to pick up the things I didn't catch first time around. I just hope it doesn't take another bug for me to find the time to do so! Until then, I'm thinking about reading Chesterton's biography of Saint Thomas Aquinas. Good stuff!