And that was that

From 1934’s crop of roadside verse from Burma Vita:

He had the ring
He had the flat
But she felt his chin
And that
Was that
Burma Shave

I’m sick.  I’m not sure what it is.  Kind of a super cold.  Aching joints –  it actually hurts my fingers to pound these keys – clogged sinuses, gigantic sneezes, coughing till I gag, no appetite, weary to death.  Because I’m on a regimen of Remicade, my immune system is compromised, so I went to the doctor Monday and was given a prescription of antibiotics.  To help me sleep I also got some nuclear-powered cough syrup.  And I’m instructed to stay at home and rest.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

Oh, and work on my idea for the next Betsy novel.  The synopsis is due at my publisher June 2.  That was kind of a shock to discover, I thought I had till the end of the month.

I visited the Old Log Theater in Excelsior and got some excellent information and an invitation to come to the initial rehearsals of their next play, “Free To Be You And Me.”  The new owners have some terrific ideas for improving the theater itself, so it will be interesting to watch that take place.

Meanwhile, I’m going back to bed.