Oh, Nora. I'm so, so sorry. Peace to you and your family.
'Selfless'
Spike's Bitches 38: Well, This Is Just...Neat.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
{{{Nora and family}}}
Bloody, bloody hell, love.
I am so very sorry. Glad that his family did manage to get there before he was gone, but - so very sorry.
On a far more shallow note, a small cheer for the range of intresting people who are to be found over on OKCupid. One of whom (a quite charming young man whose profile I had earlier perused) has just mailed me with the following subject line:
Fay (re: Queen)
See, a bit of wordplay relating to poetry - now that's what I'm talking about. And he, bless him, can indeed wax lyrical about Gaiman, Serenity, TS Eliot etc etc. AND fence.
Joe, d'you think you could step up the work on those matter transporters, love?
{{{Nora}}}
Joe, d'you think you could step up the work on those matter transporters, love?
Okay, but I'll need someone to chip in on the electric bill. The particle accelerator magnets are murder on the utilities.
Peace and strength to you and your family, Nora.
Someone remind me not to read Salon letters.
Someone remind me not to read Salon letters.
JZ is good at doing that. I mean, not wanting to read Salon letters but doing it anyway....
{{{Nora}}}
Annabel's fever is down from 102 to 100, so that's good. Whatever she has is kind of strange--aside from occasional lethargy and a slight runny nose, she doesn't act sick at all. She just feels like a furnace whenever the tylenol wears off and her fever climbs again. She's drinking a lot more than she's eating, which would tend to suggest a sore throat or maybe even a stomachache, but when asked she says they don't hurt.
I'll call the doctor in ten minutes once they open.