So on the anniversary of John Lennon’s death and the day after Elizabeth Edward’s, I’m sitting in a pile of blankets, laptop out, kitten walking across me at regular intervals, and whatever $&#%@$ viral thing I have still stirring the pot. The day is bright and quiet, and my ambitions include only taking a hot bath, downing some aspirin, and picking up a friend at the airport…..oh, and a little work here and there. Actually, when I’m sick, I tend to work longer and harder, finding the moving fingers on the keyboard a better distraction than lying in bed, trying to aim my mind away from bizarre dream-lettes that come and go. In any case, this is life, and like anything, it will shift and change on its own mysterious schedule. In the meantime, there’s the call of oatmeal and tea, the warmth of fleece and the flitter of birds past the lit-up windows.