Today I am late again. I stayed in bed for a while as did Nala and Henry. I figured I was comfortable so I wasn’t going to move. Yup, I’m still coughing, but it is less intense. I’m still limping for reasons unknown as my leg hurts. I’m contemplating heading to the medical center tomorrow. That gives my leg one more night to heal miraculously.

The morning is again lovely. It is quiet except for the birds. When I was a kid, Saturday was the nosiest day. It was the day for lawn mowing. Back then the fathers used hand mowers, and the blades clicked as they turned. My father cut the same pattern with his mower every Saturday when he mowed the grass. Green grass and a lovely lawn were objects of pride. No yards were overgrown. That would have been frowned upon.

Most Saturdays I was out and about. I never had a plan or a direction. I made my lunch figuring I would be gone most of the day. I went by myself. My neighborhood friend wasn’t a bike rider. I was fine with that as I could just ride wherever I wanted. Sometimes I just rode around town looking at the old houses. Sometimes I’d stop at the library. I’d sit at one of the tables and read a magazine. It was a rest stop.

I got fifty cents allowance, an extravagant amount. My father always encouraged me to save it. I didn’t. A new book was only $.49 which gave me a penny to spend at the corner store. I’d hurry home, go to my room and get cozy in bed to read. My new book was often a detective story with a teen girl as the main character. My favorite was Trixie Belden with Ginny Gordon a close section. They solved mysteries. Every book had a new mystery. I never had any mysteries in my life so I was always a bit jealous of their adventures.

I haven’t been anywhere all week. I missed all of this week’s uke events. I have just been resting and complaining. I hope to attend this Monday’s last outside concert. I can’t believe it is the last. The summer has just whooshed by. Soon enough the leaves will be changing and carved pumpkins with lit candles inside will sit on the front steps. I am glad for autumn. It is my favorite season.

I apologize for not writing yesterday. I was in the middle of one my three naps, and when I woke up, it was late afternoon. This plague is still with me. When I cough, the dogs give me a weird look and tilt their heads. Added to that, walking is painful. My right leg hurts. I have no idea why. This has been the worst week.

Because I hadn’t left my house since last week, my larder was almost empty. Luckily, one of my uke friends called to see what I needed. She brought me groceries and surprises. She brought the usual bread and cream for my coffee. The surprises were the best: a cake, brownies, chicken salad, fruit, cheesecake, sliders and more. She wouldn’t take any money and said it was a late birthday present. Later, another uke buddy called to see if I needed anything. My uke friends take great care of me.

When I was a kid, I was seldom sick. I had the usual childhood ailments back then: mumps, measles and chicken pox. I might have had a cold or two. I remember the sniffles. I didn’t miss school other than a day or two here and there. I guess we were hardy kids.

In Ghana I was really healthy. I did have the scourge of traveling during training and a few times after but not often. I had an infected mosquito bite and a burn from goats running into my moto, but that was it. I was still hardy.

I had every shot imaginable so this illness is unexpected and, even worse, unknown.

My sloth has been quietly celebrating. I have done nothing. The hair ball tumbleweeds are taking over my house. If I were a character in a low budget science fiction movie, those tumbleweeds would have teeth, the ability to move and hunter-prey instinct. I would be the prey. I can see them hurrying down the hall with teeth clicking as I run screaming.