I got home from a quick trip into our little town after mailing a package and dropping into the School Corporation building to fill out the necessary paperwork to get our Farmer's Market cleared to use the School Corp. parking lot--our location for the last, oh, I don't know, decade maybe? 

I took over the Market Master position last year...but the previous Market Master had already taken care of this legal aspect, so I was facing a new experience. I was slightly nervous about it for several reason, not least possibly being the fact that I've hardly been out of the house for months now as I continue to deal with a re-occurring foot infection that for two weeks out of three keeps me strictly shoe-less. So, boldly walking in on strangers and "adulting" caused some slight apprehension. Silly, I know...but the truth.

Anyway, I got home from said quick trip...and as I plunked my wallet down on my desk, I declared to Katherine (who was practicing her piano), "Well, I adulted and it was fairly painless."

She almost laughed and said, "It usually is."

And you know what? She is right. It usually is pretty painless to behave like I'm my age. To face a stranger over a business proposition with my head up and my shoulders back. I may not look beautiful or graceful, but honesty and a grin never hurt anybody. 

I was talking to my mom this morning some about how each of us, even my parents, deal with "moving on" as we begin to function on a higher plane the more we beat our Lyme and Co. When I was diagnosed, I was 22. I am now 26. Those four years in between...large chunks of them are missing. I lived through them (obviously, I'm not dead) and I even did things like working a Farmer's Market every weekend June through September...and a reenactment here and there. But, so much of that time was lost. I aged, without necessarily my mind getting any older. (So don't mind me when I act a little too young. I just haven't caught up to myself yet. ;D) I lost social skills I once had...

Beyond that, there is an emotional "loss". Like I said to my mom, it's like there are emotions there, underneath the flatness, but you just can't quite reach them. (Other days, you sit and cry for no logical reasons.) And then the anxiety--which can cause undue and ridiculous (if you aren't the person living it) stress over even very simple things--perhaps having to get out and pump gas. 

We have to relearn how to deal with emotions, good and bad. We have to relearn how to face stressful situations. We have to learn how to live again. Really live. Not just breathe, eat, and sleep. 

Relearn how to read and absorb information. To read a sewing pattern. To play instruments and sing. To follow through with a task (oh what a biggie this one is!) To step outside our comfort zone.

To adult. 

To walk into a building of complete strangers, standing straight and tall, with a smile and no stuttering as we inform them why this funny looking girl with the black-leggings, denim skirt and red cabled sweater has just intruded into the peace of a beautiful lobby.

It's getting easier. 

I only regret that the "G" I wrote on the paper was so wobbly. A capital "G" is the worst looking letter in my handwriting's vocabulary. 

It's been awhile since I've written one of these posts...but it's been awhile since I have been this herxy. I was doing better until I realized I wasn't. I mean, I am better than I was this time last year, but I had essentially plateaued again. I'm about 95% sure that my main area of fight currently should be addressed toward mold, rather than Lyme and Co, so we are addressing it with various of the Cowden program leftovers and extras currently...and boy, have I ever felt it!

I was hoping those days of dissolving into tears for illogical reasons were over, but I guess not.

Nobody made me start sewing. No one even asked me to. I decided I would try to reduce one pile in the living room by finishing up some of these unfinished aprons, thus cleaning up a little and actually accomplishing something at the same time.

So why, all of a sudden, sitting at the machine, did I begin to feel stressed out? Why did I eventually begin to have those tears pool and finally spill over?

Well...the table I was sewing at is too high for me--it makes my back hurt a little. My fingernails were too long. My clothes aren't comfortable. My neck felt tight. My thumb, which I already had an issue with before I cut it deeply last Thursday, was, while not painful, just uncomfortable. The noise of the machine sounded too loud.

All of these are silly reasons to cry.

Normally.

Not when herxing though. It's not self-pity either somehow. It's just a sensation that one cannot handle life. So tears. Tears help. I'm no longer ashamed of breaking down and crying for no good reason. I realize that God gives us relief, even from physically induced emotional stress, through tears. 

I wept. I cut my fingernails (I had to get my sister to help me with one hand because of my thumb). And I felt, while not all better, much calmer of soul. For the present, at any rate....hopefully at least until tomorrow morning's dose of the same medicine. :)

Yes, I am going to have to learn how to spell "asthma"....

Turns out that I have cropped up this new symptom in my healing process and it's called "unofficially diagnosed asthma". I have had a chronic cough on and off for several years now, but sometime this past spring it progressed to more than a cough into a difficulty breathing at times. I've had air-hunger before, but this feels a little different. Damp and cold air make the cough crop up more than anything.

Anyway, talking with our Lyme doctor about it (and the possibility of it being TB) she suggested that I probably have asthma--which after comparing symptoms once we got home, I decided was more like it.

I had my worst bought yet yesterday...Daddy and I were at our Friday Farmer's Market and it started to rain. I don't generally mind standing cramped up under the tent, getting kind of damp. It can actually be kind of fun and cozy and create bonds between vendors and even customers. 

I started to cough...and then I started struggling for air. I won't say I was gasping because I was trying to be a little more discreet than that. I ended up holding onto the tables to keep upright as I began to get off-balance; I suppose from a lack of oxygen. About the time Daddy called Mom (he was going to suggest she come up and switch out with me) I looked over at John (egg man) and realized he had an empty chair (and place to set it up, unlike us), so I told Daddy, "I can go sit with John..."

I stumbled over and sat down and sitting helped. John was marking his egg labels, so I ended up actually sticking them on his cartons (might as well make myself useful!) Once the rain cleared out and stuff dried up a little I quit fighting though I think I kept right on coughing on and off for the rest of the afternoon. 

So yeah...new symptom, new struggles...and on we march!

Some of you know I have chemical sensitivities. Some of you may not. Anyway...if there is one "symptom" with my Lyme/Mold soup that seems to progressively increase rather than decrease, it it my sensitivity to chemicals. 

I went to town today. One stop was at Menards, a big hardware store. I love hardware stores. They are so much fun to meander around in. Well, I was doing alright until I walked by what smelt like fertilizer--I never did see it, but boy did I ever smell it. I could taste it, it bit into my lungs, and I gasped for air. 

I really don't know if one can tell by looking at me, but I feel like my face swells up (around my eyes in particular). Today I also felt like my hands were swelling and I got a random pain in my right arm. The tip of my tongue gets weird feeling. Not only that, the other chemical smells I hadn't really detected yet, suddenly began to stand out and choke me. I really was looking for something, but after a few minutes of this, I had to get out of there. 

This is just getting worse. 

Later, in the grocery, I walked off while Katherine was considering tomatoes because I had to leave a lady's perfume behind. I often gasp (as quietly as possible) while shopping because a woman walks by and I cannot breathe because of her perfume. Occasionally it happens with a man.

I never did like shopping much (just ask my mom!) and dealing with chemical attacks from a random lady's perfume or walking by the detergent aisle...or passing too close to new rubber or fertilizer just makes it even less of an appealing prospect. 

It's not just "fake smells" and fertilizer that bother me. Farm chemicals really do a number on me. I haven't gotten around any yet this year so I don't know if they still cause my meningitis to flare up--but since realizing at some point when I was still in Florida that when I get any farm chemicals on me (or I could say "in me" I guess since if you're out around them you can't help inhaling even tiny bits of them) I end up with a meningitis attack, I have really tried to stay clear of them. When I see the man with the spray machine pull up to any of the surrounding fields, I have been known to not just go in, but to run as fast as I can to the house and get inside before he deploys the booms.

Chemicals. I guess they are necessary in life...but some of us have serious issues dealing with them and we aren't crazy even though, "my arm starting hurting after I got a snoot of fertilizer" may sound like we are. :D

So...if you see me suddenly randomly choke and start coughing, don't worry too hard. I probably just got a whiff some something and I will survive it--even if I have to go outside and breathe deep and cough and repeat this process for awhile.

I have this itch...no, not the one back there on my right shoulder blade that always reminds me where the spider bit me when I was 11...no, it's communication itch. I don't really feel like talking--but I feel like writing. It's not a creative writing itch either, just a ramble-writing itch. So here I am. It's been a while since I've done one of these...and it's been a long time since I have been consistent with my blog. Sometimes I even forget I have a blog. 

I seem to be having a fairly consistent element of brain fog recently. Not debilitating brain-fog; more along the lines of it takes actual work to concentrate, but I can concentrate if I really have the desire to. I'm bored when I have both no right to be bored or any reason to be bored. I have spent far too much time on the computer this week--which feeds the bored. Sounds odd, but it's true. When I spend too much time on the computer, I get bored faster. 

I have a half finished baby girl's dress in the other room. I need to finish putting the collar on, put the sleeves in, and hem it and it will be done. Oh yes, I do need to put the rick-rack on it too. Anyway...it's sitting there...and I'm sitting here and I don't "feel" like finishing it up. I might after a bit, but I'll get the "itch" out of my system first.

While the pretty orange dress sits there and gets cold, let me tell you something. My toes are cold. The nice thing in that frigid statement is that they are not numb. See, a lot of time when my toes get cold, one or two of them (on both feet) get numb and will not "wake up" even once my feet warm up enough that they should. Just a couple of days ago, I started using this "Circulation" essential oil blend and I think it is helping. Well, even if it's not, it has a real nice aroma to it, so the only ones who might complain about it might be the cats. 

My guitar really needs new strings. I've been saying that for months now and haven't done anything about it. I either need to go to the local music store and see if they have what I want or order myself some. I think I'd be a little more inclined to play if my instrument didn't sound flat and dull even when it is in-tune. There is something so disheartening about "dead" strings. I cannot remember the last time I changed them, but it is possible it has been over a year. (Yeah, y'all string players out there...cringe with me!)

Speaking of instruments and music, I've been pretty consistently playing piano. I mostly play out of "The Civil War Songbook" (big surprise, right?) and am starting to get some decent sounding speed up on some of the pieces I like to play. Others--well, not so wonderful sounding.

Katherine and I went to Hobby Lobby yesterday. I was shopping for a particular couple of projects and got some thing(s) for both. A friend from church has commissioned me to make him a particular Confederate uniform and I found, marked down in the remnant section, more than enough of a certain type of material I needed for part of kit. Nifty. I also found another remnant of white muslin that will work to make Katherine the white chemise she needs to accompany her ball gown. Now...we just need a day when we both are feeling up to corsets and fittings. (Katherine has not been doing so great this week.)

I have this bad habit. I have at least three 1860's projects I need to work on, plenty of time, and I spend more time theorizing than actually doing. Actually, to be honest, I do  have a legitimate excuse of each one. I lack measurements, I need measurements, and I need "someone" to be fitted. But the theorizing part is true. I frequently enough find myself day-dreaming over a project rather than actually getting started. Or working on it. I have two film projects in the works and both are moving like a snail on a cold day. Like I said earlier, I bored with no reason to be bored. At the moment, I'm feeling a little blue too--which could be because it's overcast and I'm chilly at the extremities...and I feel bored. (Man. I haven't used that word this much in a long time.) Even the Sousa Marches playing in the other room don't have me marching in time very hard. Unusual, for I love a march. 

Well, the "itch" was not supposed to be a complaining session, though it sure looks like it turned out that way. So--let me cast back over some more cheerful things. I have managed over the past few weeks to bring my Etsy inventory up to nearly 140 listings (with more to go). While I haven't made any sales this week, I have had eight in the last 30 days (which is better than this time last year by a long shot!), with just three of those last week. Funny how sales seem to come in spurts. I won't sell anything for a bit and then, wham! I have anywhere from 2-5 sales in 7-10 days. 

I have started learning German. Yes, I have. So far, it's not been too horrid of a learning curve. I do better understanding it than speaking it and I have been surprised that the spelling has been less of a hitch in my get along than I expected. I really do not have a good logical explanation as to why I decided to tackle German, but it had something to do with wanting to eavesdrop on the German WWII reenactors at RWWII this year and seeing how much Deutsche they actually speak. :D Oh yes, such an admirable reason to learn a language!

I've also been "bugging" Katherine to pick her French back up and she actually has started this week. German makes more sense to me than French (in the listening). I can't quite get my crooked teeth around French pronunciation either. I butcher the poor language. Look out world--the daily Southern, American English speech of this house is going to be seeing an uptake in quad-lingualness. (Quad: English, Spanish, French, and German. We all know at least un poco Espanol. We all know a little Deutsche, and I will even confess to understanding a wee bit of French. Let's not even mention the various British, Irish, and Scottish accents that we attempt to bandy about...though if I may, my Irish accent is better than Daddy's Brooklyn. :D)

I am going to need to go haul wood from the fuel room into the furnace room here in a few minutes, so perhaps I ought to leave you with that humorous note. Or I could say, "I'm hungry" (Ich habe Hunger) which for those of you quite familiar with me, might make you laugh even harder. So there. Since when am I not hungry at 6 0'clock pm?

​Auf widersehen! 

P.S. I am slightly wary about how my name is going to sound in German....

You wouldn't know it though...it's the first of November here in the North and it's over 70* outside! We even have the windows hanging open...

Anyway, I didn't start this post to talk about the weather...or the fact that "The Holly and the Ivy" just popped up next on my Spotify playlist (it's not actually a Christmas playlist--it just happens to have one Christmas album on it). Rather, I wanted to talk about something that I live with on a day-to-day basis. My health.

As you all know (unless you are a very, very new reader here!), I have Chronic Lyme and Toxic Mold issues. I got to thinking about "things" yesterday and thought I'd give y'all a bit of an update.

I still have bad days fairly regularly. In fact, in this week so far (counting Sunday as Day 1), I've had one bad day out of three. Yesterday, I didn't feel well. I have yet to think of a more accurate description than "not feeling well"--even when there is no pain and I cannot pin-point any particular spot that's out of whack. It was one of those days were I felt really tired, emotionally strained (if anyone had raised their voice at me I would have started to cry), my noise and light sensitivity was heightened (particularly the audio-sensitivity) and I wasn't too sharp in the head.

Sounds dreadful, I suppose--and to a degree it is. But I'm not moping over it, but rather encouraged. Why? When I still have symptoms and trouble?

I'll tell you why. It's because--despite the brain-fog, I was able to read a letter I got from a friend. I was able to read a little more in "April's Revolution" (a book on antebellum and Civil War medical systems) and digest the information.

That's an improvement from earlier this year.

I'll tell you more. I was able to peel the tomatoes Mama asked me to do. 

I was able to make supper. 

I was able to move the chicken tractors by myself. 

Perhaps that doesn't sound like much, but the fact that I was, despite my fatigued, almost depressed feeling, able to do "normal" functioning thing like stand at a stove and cook (probably even could have come up with the menu myself if Mom hadn't made a few wonderful suggestions as I was making my way to the kitchen) is good. It's encouraging. It's happy.

And I'm in good enough shape today to actually see this. :)

Well y'all...I need to go get the kitchen cleaned up from lunch....and maybe, just maybe, I can get this little jacket finished today!

Every now and again, life throws you a curve-ball. Sometimes, we react badly...pout, whine, cry, get mad...you name it. Other times we take things calmly with grace. Then, there are those times we simply don't care--so much so that it makes us wonder if we're really okay, knowing that in general we'd be very disappointed as our expectations crumble about our ears. 

Okay, so maybe you don't react in some of those said ways, but I do. I'm rather in the throes of the third option there.

I've been looking forward to going to the Perryville Civil War reenactment for months. I kind of intended it as my birthday fling and nobody needed to feel obliged to give me anything. I was going to go have fun for my birthday.

Well. Lord has other plans I think. 

Ever since getting back from Tennessee, I've not felt too "hep". I had about two good days last week and Sunday was alright, but I've been an absolute drag the rest of the time. Indeed, if you were to see me as I wrote this blog post, you would notice that my eyes are almost half-closed, I'm sitting (er, lounging) sideways in my chair with my head laid on the back and my laptop on the chair's arm. I feel like my face is swollen and I probably look kind of pouty because I'm not making any effort to tighten up my face muscles. 

Anyway, the long and the short of it is--unless I get a wild swing of energy tomorrow (since I would need tomorrow to cobble things together in time to leave on Thursday) and then feel decent on Thursday morning, myself and faithful sidekick Katherine will be staying home. I've pretty much resigned myself to not going and I don't even hardly feel disappointed. Just vaguely. Katherine herself isn't feeling much better and as I sit here, I can see her two unfinished dresses. I pretty much made one of them (though she fix an issue that needed fixing when I took a nose-dive) and the other one has been all her. 

In other, more thrilling news, I have managed to puddle around some today and I'm pleased, in a subdued kind of way, to silently point you to the fact that you can actually see the floor in the front room/sewing room. I even sat on the floor with the vacuum hose and got the majority of the thread up off the carpet. The disheveled wads of material are at least in neater stacks and I got the lid on one of the doll-dress material boxes and reorganized another of them so that their isn't fabric spilling out in all directions. I fixed up my own personal stacks and even threw out some things. 

​Life marches on. And I think I'm going to go get a snack. 

I have four friends with birthdays this week...somehow that amuses me. :) Three are, or are past, and one still to come. My brother-in-law's birthday is next week (if I'm right on the date), so it's a birthday-ish kind of month, it seems! Naturally, Katherine is our "Sunshine Lady" as Mom puts it, so any mailed out cards have passed through the adorable child's hands.

Speaking of adorable, here's her shop outfit for today. Ain't she just PURDY??

Back to this week so-far though. I can't exactly remember Monday...unless Monday was the day Katherine and I went to Jo-Ann's. If it wasn't Monday, it was Tuesday.

Well, anyway, we went to Jo-Ann's because I have a number of Civil War underpinnings to make for certain persons--preferably before next weekend which is our first reenactment of the season! I, being the entire doof that I am, misread the sale ad and thus was happily expecting the muslin to be 50% off. Oh. It doesn't start until THURSDAY, you say? Well...now that I feel stupid, I'll come back then and get my mass of yardage! (Which I did, this morning, in conjunction with a grocery run. I walked out with an entire bolt of muslin for just over $25.)

I was also pricing for possible other notions for an upcoming project, my "bother's" Confederate general's uniform! Tickles me pink, it does. :) I'm still not entirely settled on what I'm going to use for the "chicken guts" on the sleeves. I don't want anything that looks cheap and "costumy"; it would ruin the effect. But anyway--there will be more on that project in the future.

Yesterday, I cleaned the chicken coop before breakfast. (That 45 minute buffer on the "dirt" detoxer leaves me open time slots sometimes.) The morning was spent doing a little straightening up and the afternoon saw the staggering fact that we organized our yards and yards and yards of material!!!!

You are allowed to die with shock.

That concluded with 1 box (all units are rubbermaid, just so you know) of 1 yard pieces, 1 box of 2 yard pieces, 1 box mostly full of 3 yard pieces, 1 box mostly full of 4 yard pieces, and 1 box crammed full of 5, 6, and 7 yard pieces. Then, of course, is the scrappy stuff which is supposed to be made into quilts, Katherine's box of fabric, my comforter bag of fabric, two small rubbermaids of doll material, one BIG rubbermaid with the material still on bolts in it. So yeah. We still have some material all over the place to join the mess of unfinished projects, un-started projects, and clothing items to be re-purposed. Oh, and perhaps a mending job or two.

We like fabric. Just in case you didn't know.

I was completely wiped out by the end of the day, but surprisingly, don't seem to badly off today. Which brings me to my next subject: a Racheal Health Update.

The week after Savannah got married, the following Wednesday to be exact, I started my new killer/detox regimen. I won't give any dates for the following, because that would be too precise for my taste (or memory)...

Anyway, I have been having, get this, E-N-E-R-G-Y!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My brain may not still be working at capacity, but I have been able to move, energetically--all day long (or mostly all day long) in a way that I haven't for quite a long time. Gee. ONE DROP of that fungal killer is doing this to me?? (And I'm not kidding, most days it is only one drop, not two.) I had some headaches when I first went on it, but since leveling out on one drop, I haven't. I wonder how it'll do with two drops. Maybe I'll attempt two next week.....maybe. I like feeling good. :D

Evidence that my brain still isn't fully functioning...I forgot what else I was going to say. 

However, I probably should mosey off of here (coffee's gone) and get to my Thursday baking. I have to go get some rhubarb for pies...and I'll double check with Mom on what else she wants or does not want made. Either way, I'll try to get US some bread made. We have enough eggs now that it's not a strain on our breakfast to whip up some breads.

Busyness has defined this week. I cannot remember what I did on Monday--other than dishes--and singing for 45 minutes at the top of my lungs. No one else was home, that's how come I got away with that. ;)

Yesterday saw a whole slew of things being done: Mom got the Tandoori chicken marinating, I peeled 12 pounds of carrots and stuffed them in ziploc bags and jammed them back into the fridge. I washed dishes once or twice (or more). I did laundry; a little abstract "straightening" in the living room. I ironed both mine and Katherine's bridesmaid dresses (THAT's what I did on Monday--I stitched up the sashes!) I cooked two meals. I cleaned the bathroom (I just realized I forgot to scrub the floor........) I baked some bacon and managed to burn some of it. 

I readied my beehives--I thought the buzzers should be arriving today, but it looks like probably Thursday.

I was in and out of the house several time and actually spent some time in the bright sunshine and wind--and farm chemicals.

Now, I know better than to dance around in herbicides and insecticides. I got a whiff of "something" at some point while in the middle of messing with my hive and just kept right on doing whatever it was I was doing. I was literally in and out of the house all day and Savannah says 'everyone was spraying' yesterday though I only saw one--the jerk who really should have only sprayed Helen's field (right next to ours). However, he did our field as well (couldn't he see the boundary??)...and he was real sloppy about it too. Davy is always very respectful around our property, but this guy wasn't. I was kinda hoppin' indignant, but none of us wanted to go out into the spray and give the dope a piece of their mind. (Daddy was up state under a dentist's fist at the time.) Well, Mom had had the windows open some and they didn't get closed immediately. Even closed up though, some of that stuff still seeps through the cracks.

I kind of feel bad about not going out and trying to get that guy to cut it out, spraying our land and all, for two reasons: 1) we already have corn planted and I suppose it's quite possible that whatever he was spraying, which would be for beans, may damage our crop--or kill it completely and 2) he wasted his employers money! But I didn't want to go out--but I guess I might have well as gone out, I got sick from it anyway!! 

That explains why I've spent the last couple of hours in my chair in the living room, vaguely paying attention to the cleaning Mum is doing in the next room. I have done a little laundry today as well as dishes--and I DID get the roasters washed this morning and I made lunch! So, I guess I haven't been one-hundred percent useless. Still, I don't feel good and I have the random aches and pains in addition to the meningitis. 

I hope I feel A LOT better in the morning because Abigail and Grace come in tomorrow as well as Aunt Terry. 

Now, y'all may be scratching your heads here...wondering how on earth I can be chatting with livestock when I haven't any cattle or sheep or goats here--you know those animals typically considered livestock. 

*insert a snicker*

Well, I have chickens and bees. Both livestock. Sure, they may not have four feet and chew the cud, but they are live stock. 

I'll let you in on Racheal's method of livestock keeping...

First off, I tend to be the lazy keeper kind. The way I see it, critters can pretty much handle themselves and since they did before domestication, I consider that they will be stronger and healthier if I don't pamper them. That being said, I am not a careless livestock owner either, nor do I abuse my animals. I most definitely see to it that they are fed...and since it has warmed (and dried!!) up, I attempt to clean the chicken coop once a week--that is, when I am feeling up to it. If I don't, well, those birds can keep right on living on week old+ straw and you know. They really don't seem to mind, but then again they do kind of like the new straw--if only because they scratch through it and find whatever lurking wheat berries might still be in it. That's a chicken for you--put down a nice layer of straw and in an hour you can see the mud again. 

Second off, I talk (sometimes goofy) to my animals--chicken and bees. I can talk chicken fairly well, but understanding the bee's humming is summing I haven't quite gotten the hang of yet. I imagine it's kind of ridiculous, but I stand with an elbow on top of the hive, my ankles cross and say nice, encouraging things to my bees. I ask them questions (I know, I sound like a dope)...for instance, "How's your Queenie doing?" and stuff of that ilk. Naturally, they don't answer me, but I enjoy my idiocy, even if they don't. This serves a double purpose--comfortableness around bees and so, perhaps, they get to know me as something other than a threat. I don't know...but it's an interesting question: can a bee tell one human from another? 

Oh, and speaking of livestock, I should be getting my meat birds (finally!) tomorrow morning. All one hundred peeping baby birds. Now, that's a racket for you! I do look forward to it, for, as stinky as chickens can be, I rather enjoy raising the noisome, nosesome critters. I also, I must confess, thoroughly enjoy eating them as well...and it is rather hard to get emotionally attached to any in such a dramatic number as 100. Cows, perhaps, but not chickens. While it is true that chickens do have different personalities, cows are so much more personable--and more easily distinguishable from one another--maybe, if you don't have a pure bred herd--which has never been the case with our cattle as far as I am aware.

Hopefully by tomorrow I shall feel good and full of energy (unlike the past two days) and be all properly enthusiastic, as well as having the brain power to do something useful. I need to make more rompers...but that's another subject for another time.

Here's to hopes that all my chickies make it alive!