Check this out. After six weeks of illness (and a few weeks of laziness preceding) I finally re-hung some prints Gary knocked down.
Don't worry, I just straightened out the second from the left.
The thing is, this means I am returned to health.
I have missed my health, such as it is. Before the Wild Boar Plague began, I was thinking of a friend who just lost a terrific amount of weight due to a balanced diet and exercise, and then she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Whenever the people suggest diet and exercise will make me healthy, I think: Ship has sailed. Sailed, boarded by pirates, plastered with barnacles and sunk.
I know I am returning to what I call health because Gary has segued from fellow sufferer to bitter sufferer. "GET ME THE BENDY STRAWS WHY DON'T YOU EVER BUY THE RIGHT TYPE OF COUGH MEDICINE STOP TOUCHING ME." That's okay, I know what he's going through. In fact, he's worse than I've been, and I am thrilled. Because I'm on immuno-suppressant drugs for the clinical trial and he is my Control. I expected to be so much worse than he is.
Granted, those frames took me the entire day, with three naps. Still, I fell better. I hope none of you ever get whatever the hell this has been.
Oh! And speaking of restored health ask me about my labia! Peachy and pink and perfect, thank you. No swelling, no bleeding this last month, and no new holes. So, diagnosis: strange virus. Don't know where I got it, so. don't rub your crotch across anywhere my labia have been. This PSA brought to you by the Missouri Crotch Council.