Scroogey

I thought I was through with my illness, but alas, the Pestilence is still here, reminding me of the ghost of Christmas Future...there's a lot of moaning and chain-rattling, with a Linus-like attachment to my fuzzy blanket. If the doctor's office will ever call me back, I'm heading there for some antibiotics and whatever else they can pump into my miserable body. This too shall pass... 

I had a moment of light yesterday, emerging from my swaddling clothes mid-afternoon to practice my flute. I found there was enough oxygen to push out some scales. If you don't practice, you go backwards, sick or not. Some of our new spring music was in the Google drive (Carrollton Wind Ensemble), so I printed it off and had a look-see. Of course, the music is impossible, but that's nothing new. I sometimes wonder if composers just hate flutists, because it appears so. All the squiggly noodles from the lowest to the heights belong to us. One consolation is that maybe this brain and finger work is delaying the decline of my synapses. You never know. There was a gorgeous piece, long, sprightly, full of flute zippity-do-da, and an awesome Benny Goodman compilation. My problem with that will be trying to keep myself from dancing off the stage. Who doesn't love some amazing Big Band tunes? 

We're having a hard time over here; half of us are sick or recuperating from surgery (Ken). But thank the Lord, Winter Solstice is past and that means that the shortest day is behind us. Here in the Deep South, spring comes early, so if we can limp on through January and February, maybe it won't take forever. Our 41st anniversary is in February and that's always a distraction, then the daffodils start poking their heads up and the pollen starts flying. I need to stop thinking about it and tend to the quiet, muffled song of Winter. We rarely have snow, and the temperatures in Georgia run crazy all over the map. We'll have several days of freezing and then a week of near-Spring teasers. Meanwhile, it would do me some good to settle down and do some reading and planning, before the flowers emerge. God gave us seasons for a reason, though we might only have a couple down here: Hot, hotter and muggy, then the rest of the time could be described as some sort of personality disorder. We have so much to be thankful for. One of my sons and his wife gave me this fancy Keurig machine; I can have a piping hot cup of cinnamon tea in just a few seconds. I think I'll spring for that right about now...that, and a Dickens novel.