elainegrey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elainegrey) wrote2009-12-29 08:38 pm
elainegrey) wrote2009-12-29 08:38 pm
Tuesday evening/afternoon entry
I ended up not really working today. Diagnosis bronchitis, antibiotics prescribed.
Edward came home late morning and wolfed (lioned?) down his breakfast. He's not been let out on walkabout: tomorrow morning he can resume his regular walkabout. *I* don't worry about that massive cat in the "cold" here, but Christine's got enough invalids to care about right now. I know she woke in the night worrying about him.
Of course, she said my breathing was labored and loud, too.
Mr M is home, and receiving a variety of meds. I am looking forward to the IV drip bag (actually subcutaneous).
I'm continuing to poke at the genealogy. There's a pleasant puzzle like quality to it, and then there's no expectations. I begin to wonder how much credibility i should put in census records. I particularly having in mind things like the birth date of the fifth child of nine or ten. I imagine the farmer, interrupted out in his field on a spring or summer day, being challenged to rattle off the birth years of all his kids. And then the census taker's dictation skills: how well did he track?
Edward came home late morning and wolfed (lioned?) down his breakfast. He's not been let out on walkabout: tomorrow morning he can resume his regular walkabout. *I* don't worry about that massive cat in the "cold" here, but Christine's got enough invalids to care about right now. I know she woke in the night worrying about him.
Of course, she said my breathing was labored and loud, too.
Mr M is home, and receiving a variety of meds. I am looking forward to the IV drip bag (actually subcutaneous).
I'm continuing to poke at the genealogy. There's a pleasant puzzle like quality to it, and then there's no expectations. I begin to wonder how much credibility i should put in census records. I particularly having in mind things like the birth date of the fifth child of nine or ten. I imagine the farmer, interrupted out in his field on a spring or summer day, being challenged to rattle off the birth years of all his kids. And then the census taker's dictation skills: how well did he track?