Dearest Husband,

As you know, I’m home sick today with a nasty little stomach bug. You’re off winning bread and fighting the good fight, and when I think of you I feel better. Thus far I’ve laid on the couch for 8 hours, during which time I think I got up twice to visit the guest bath, which I’m so thankful I had the little sister clean before she left, clean bathrooms are really so much nicer when you’re throwing up in them, and also I got up to get tea.

It’s sunny out after a night of rain and it’s so beautiful out it makes me wish I was healthy so I could run around out there with the puppy, who spent the morning on the guest bed watching out the winder (ha! typed “winder” for window, it’s like I’m Southern or something) at the construction guys across the street. I kicked him out around noon and he surprised me by not really bugging me at all through the winder (heh), probably because I’ve been so lumpish he forgot I’m here. I might let him in soon, and maybe we’ll go sit on the front porch for 6 minutes as the thingy says it’s now 70.1 degrees F out there, only 3.7 degrees cooler than it is in the house (aka heater central).

I’m sitting (sprawling) here thinking about all the things I’m thankful for, namely right now not feeling as completely cruddy as i did about noon, but also other things. Like my laptop that you suggested I buy that lets me surf the Interwebs for Flickr, news, celeb gossip, Facebook catching up, and a sure sign that I’m feeling a bit better, local restaurant menus (could google local BE anymore fun?) and yes I’ve been watching Friends, though on the big TV. I’m also thankful for you, for chatting with my using gmail chat when I remember not to navigate away from gmail if I want to keep chatting with you, for cheering me up (”poor poor bunny”), for offering to send a Mom my way, and going out on Thai Kitchen soup packet missions for me. I could not endure how crappy I felt today if I didn’t know you were coming home to me later this evening.

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I think I now feel well enough to stand up and MAYBE eat a little tiny something.

Your Loving Wife