The Plague at the Cottage

Hello dear friends!  Have you been wondering..."Wonder what has been going on at Cottage De Haven?  Have not heard from the mistress there in ever-so-long."  It is a sad but true tale of woes that often accost cottages such as these...the plague...

Over two weeks ago, I noticed that Madam Lu was even more...oooh, lets say 'demanding' than usual.  She cried at the drop of a fruit loop, wept when I casually mentioned she smelled like a toxic waste facility, and wailed when I asked her, very nicely, to put the sharp sewing scissors down. 

As my previous experiences are all with raising male heirs, I was quite perplexed.  The child has all of her teeth, but perhaps she is getting her 12 yr old molars?  A quick swipe in that slimy mouth proved that we do not need to consider braces at this time.  A few days later, Sir came down with a mysterious illness.  He was bedridden but not fevered.  What could it be?  Malaria in February did not seem likely.  Typhus, the ague, consumption....all ruled out.  This does, in fact leave only one illness....the dreaded plague.

And so, your Mistress has been working tirelessly nursing the sick back to health.  Sir was a heap of pathetic, writhing and loathing.  Madam Lu would not be convinced to snuggle in her sick bed...her symptoms were only apparent in her mad desire to scream and cry at all times.

Now we come to the part of the tale where the Mistress of the Cottage realizes why her skills lean more towards the demolition, decorating, gardening, cooking-type services and not towards the nursing type.  My friends, I am not a nurse.  I am neither sympathetic, nor particularly thoughtful when it comes to a sick man without a fever.  My advisement of "take some damn Advil and get out of bed" were not appreciated.

Miraculously, Sir's plague was cured just in time for him to go back to work.  I am pretty sure it was one of those ethereal miracles.  Last week was spent trying to catch up on all of the menial tasks that got put aside whilst I was donning the red cross.

Then...I noticed a slight scratching of my own throat...a dull, pounding pain in my cranium...and realized that I was a victim of that thing we nurses fear most...I had transmitted the plague.  And so, I spent this week in bed, with strep throat, alternating between crying, sucking pop-sickles, and eating Advil like Juno's lover eats Tick-tacks. 

Today the Mistress is back from the plague and is ready to tackle some projects!  Next weekend we will embark on our yearly snow-ski trip, so there is much to accomplish before we go.  Lets hope I can hang up my stethoscope for the season!