I'm not exactly a screaming ninny when it comes to pain, but after two days this weekend struggling with all sorts of embroiled viscera, I visited the lovely Dr. Palmer this morning. I'm on a regimen of antibiotics for the week, battling a kidney infection. Could be a physical manifestation of stuffing emotions, I suppose.

At any rate, I'm a little fuzzy, and such concern as I can muster regards the condition of a house that has been left for weeks to a man of many fine qualities other than cleanliness and a small parrot of generally good manners who eats like a flock of macaws.

I'll be better in a day or two.

LATER: I have distracted myself by reading this book that I borrowed from my brother. The 23rd Psalm is utterly flat in anything other than the King James version.