Sunday, March 09, 2008

It's late

I throw the laundry into the dryer in the basement, then head up the stairs to gargle with hot salted water.

The nightly whisker count: Kaylee is bedded down in the bathtub (the cast iron is still warm from my bath). Zoe is in the basement, looking for Kit Kat (who, sadly, will never appear again). Sheba is in the bathroom, asleep on a towel next to the sink that is designated a cat bed. (Towels for humans hang on the racks.)

A teaspoon of Grade B maple syrup and I'm off to bed. This cold is making me crazy.


  1. At first I misread as, "The nightly WHISKEY count..." which sounded like a pretty fine way to end the night, especially with a cold!

    Feel better soon.


  2. Perhaps I could create a hot toddy with whiskey and maple syrup? This is an awful cold. Fortunately, all the clients I emailed to say I wasn't working today emailed back to say that they, too, have colds and are taking the day off.