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Check out the bags! Miserable night of fever and coughing did this to me. Nathan looks adorable when he’s sick; Nathan’s mom, not so much, eek. John and Nathan took such good care of me, it was very touching. At first I was freezing, so Nathan had John make me a hot-water bottle like I’d made for Nathan last week. If that’s not a perfect example of what goes around comes around, I don’t know what is. The sentiment alone warmed me up. An hour later I was boiling hot, sweating, even with the winter windows wide open. I dozed on and off all night. My fever is down this morning and I am hoping I’m past that part. So today, a day for lying low and hopefully some dozing between coughing fits. woo. hoo.

Oh, and a total aside, given how crappy I feel it’s actually pretty funny – Nathan and I stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast on our drive home from Spicer, MN, yesterday. The McDonald’s in Litchfield. I walked in wearing my Dottie mink (the fur coat my mother-in-law Dot gave to me), no make-up, huge Audrey-Hepburn-black sunglasses, black Chuck Taylors, black circles under my eyes (see above), baggie jeans, a fever, and a barking cough. I figure I looked like a sort of insane diva. Needless to say, we drew a few stares. And that’s not the funny part. The funny part is that I, on a whim, ordered a sausage biscuit and it was – fucking sublime. I hate to admit it, because 75% of the time I scorn McDonald’s (you know, except when I eat there and thoroughly enjoy what I’ve had). I don’t know if it was me feeling so awful, or the perfection of this pre-fab-but-deliciously-homemade-tasting-anyhow biscuit, with just the right amount of crispy, spicy, salty sausage, or some combination of both, but I loved it the way I love the duck foie gras ravioli or veal sweetbreads at Fugaise. I did. I slowly savored every bite. I think I even closed my eyes, the highest honor I bestow upon an eating experience. Washed it down with a huge cup of steaming real coffee – I only do decaf, but I knew I needed something to power me through our 2-hour drive home. Real coffee + sausage + biscuit = perfection. Hilarious. Not moderate, and not epicurean. I’ve lost my bearings, sigh.