i'm happy for the company.
it gets a little too quiet around here for my taste.
when i was sick as a child my mother would throw open the window and let the sunshine warm me as she cleaned my room from top to bottom. I would then slide my little nightgown clad body in between the clean sheets and settle comfortably in for the day. while working on a never ending supply of sprite and jello water (with a side of chicken noodle soup and saltines if my stomach was up for it) my mother would lay on the floor next to my bed and read aloud great stories of James and his journey in a giant peach or of blind Phillip who became stranded for months on a Cay with a slave named Timothy. my mind would be transported far from my aching body and the laughing children outside my window. oh to be 7 and sick again.
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