Happy Friday!

I don't know what's with me the last two days, but I feel like I'm literally walking on sunshine. The last week and a half I've had a really bad cold and I have to sleep sitting up, which is really, really uncomfortable. It hasn't gone away and it's not getting better, but somehow the icky claustrophobic-in-my-own-head feeling doesn't bother me anymore. David says it's just that I'm getting used to being sick, but whatever, I feel like frolicking about the apartment, alone, in my cardboard-robot t-shirt and fuzzy leopard slippers. Perhaps the sign that my energy is coming back means that I'm winning the war on germs? I can only hope.

David had a birthday this week. He's definitely on the downward slope to 30. I keep telling him I can't believe I'm married to such an old man. Since school is quite consuming we put off going out until the weekend and instead spent an evening in. I made lemon and ginger salmon with green beans, carrots and pan fried potatoes. He opened presents and watched his favorite movie, 3:10 to Yuma while eating cheesecake. I had worried for weeks about what to get my husband. He's super picky and mostly wanted books, which had to be in the right condition and be the right edition. So, he buys his own presents. As poor students I can't just go out and buy any old thing because we can only afford the right thing. He also wanted a painting of a landscape with a moody sky. Ok, where was I going to get that with the small budget I had? Basically, it meant thrift stores, flea markets and vintage shows. I liked this idea, but you can never predict when the right piece will appear. I couldn't give him only an IOU card so I opted for something he needed, a pressing cloth. He is always ruining shirts when he irons. It never happens to me so I don't know what he does. I bought a piece of fabric sewed the edges and embroidered the line, "Had I the heavens' embroidered cloth" on the top edge. I attached the following poem:

Aedh wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

W.B. Yates

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet...

He found it sentimentally witty. I'll take it.