More simple baby knits in soul soothing baby colors.  As mindless as mindless can be.  And even so I noticed a mistake in my first row of ribbing.  Ribbing for goodness sake!  Can you imagine?  And I also decided I was too beat to care enough to fix it.

I’m just barely reading Anne of the Island from the Anne of Green Gables series.  I picked it up at random in the bathroom one day.  Are other people’s houses like this?  We have books everywhere, but they seem to kind of funnel here.  Especially in the upstairs one where Galen thinks he’s being clever and sly by hiding out in there to read after lights out time.  Once a week or so, usually over Sunday dinner, I’ll mention that I counted, say, 11 books in there earlier and as there aren’t 11 people in this house that can read, it seems like maybe some of them could be returned to shelves?  I don’t even know who was responsible for the appearance of this one, but no one has complained about it going missing yet.  I could be reading any one of my more serious books, but I’m so tired that I wouldn’t remember a bit of them anyway and so the balm of good, old, reliable, steadfast Anne with an “E” it is.

Wee Miss Seraphina Violet Juliette, usually the very picture of glowing, roly-poly, rose cheeked health, who never gets any more than a touch of what may be going around, has developed the worst case of croup that I’ve ever borne witness to, resulting in several scary, sleepless nights for the both of us.  Thankfully it has just about run its course.  It’s been such a relief to hear her singing to herself again, even if her voice is still just barely more than a little squeak.  Things seem to be improving, but it’s been another very long week, in a streak of long weeks.