And, indeed, we are sick again. Two colds in a month goes beyond all decency and probability, falling outside the realm of mere virology altogether. I would call it bad karma, except Kurt's sick too, and what has he ever done except smear Nutella on my phone and refuse to go to sleep?
So it's probably just a coincidence. Hopefully we've filled our quota of aching chests and snot for more than a few weeks this time. And it's really not that bad. I woke up this morning ready to pronounce myself more or less healed, but in the kitchen at Kurt's therapy center I had a coughing fit so fierce that things started to go gray and fuzzy. It was only the bright hope of my impending pedicure appointment that allowed me to get control again. I think that was the worst of it for the day.
My sisters and brothers-in-law left Friday and in no way contributed to the plague that has befallen us. They held Maria very sweetly, and I think she charmed the hell out of them. With Uncle Kevin:
We went for tea at The Blethering Place, my new favorite casual tea room:
Oh, I got my hair cut, in case you didn't know…
And of course we went to Butchart Gardens, because you can't come all this way without going, even if it's drizzling, which it was. Annie being dramatic in front of the fishy fountain:
And silly in the Japanese garden:
Lisa and Kevin at the top of Mt. Doug. The views were spectacular, the climb was hard on everyone's knees and backs, and the toddler was impossible. But the views!
Kurt warmed up to everyone just in time for them to leave, as is his usual custom. Uncle Kevin, especially, won him over with patience, hanging out in the front yard forever so Kurt could run up and down our now scaffold-less walkway, and open and close the mailbox ad nauseum. That's really all it takes to win Kurt's heart. That and Veggie Booty.