It is odd to be at home and not feel well.
A blessing in the silence.
Listening to the clock tick,
watching the leaves tumble from the trees that surround my mother's house,
eating pomegranates with juicy red luscious-ness running down my chin, using the back of my hand to wipe it away.
Admiring my mother's busy hands collecting the chicken's eggs.
Listening to the wood pecker.
Thanking my lucky stars that I am able to see the moon rising, oh my, over the harvested rice fields.
Chelsea arrived with the same cold-like bug.
My mother said, "Between the two of you if I do not get sick it will be a miracle (my mother never gets sick),
gee if that happens you two will have to cook Thanksgiving dinner."
Tofu-turkey!
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