Keith is slowly but shirley starting to rally from his terrible lurgy. He's been absolutely hammered, hardly out of bed for more than a week, and he's on his second round of antibiotics. My whooping cough test results came back negative, but my pelvis remains ambivalent about the old place in my body it used to occupy. It's still cruising about a little. I'm needing some good painkillers to make it through the latter part of the day. The pair of us are moments away from a courtesy bus to the glue factory.
But as the week has worn on, the network of women friends that surround me have appeared, one after the other, on the doorstep with pies, and salads, and slices, and cakes, and pelvic belts, and 'tummy-socks' and baby-sitting offers, and hugs and jokes and kindness.
I am so deeply grateful to have friends in my life.
More grateful over here.