Happy New Year everyone!

Yeah, okay, I haven't posted in ages. Gigi went to day care the last time I posted. They called me at 1:30 and said, "She has a fever of 101, but we don't have a medical release from you to give her anything for it." (They never actually come out and say you're a negligent derelict.) When I picked her up, she was a little warm but otherwise seemed fine. The next morning, though, she had a full-blown case of preschool kennel cough. And the next day, naturally, I had it. And then her second tooth broke the surface. I was self-medicating (and not just the cough...) with some Polish honey herb liquor I bought on a dare at a conference in Warsaw many years ago. Damn if that stuff didn't work better than Robitussin.
But I didn't take it with me on the trip to the in-laws in New England, so I've spent most of the past week on cough syrup, bed rest, and the 900-page book about Henry VIII that my in-laws gave me. (Okay, last year it was Sylvia Plath; this year, they gave me a book about a guy who divorced, beheaded or outlived six spouses. Should I be nervous?)
The phlegm factory has finally shut down, Henry just married his fifth wife, and I'm not quite perfectly adhered to the sofa. It's been a lovely visit, but it's definitely winding down.