So you may be asking. . .if Bubs is getting better, why so sad, Mrs. Howell?
Well, you see this was supposed to be Girls (& Kids) weekend with my Fulton Patrol co-officer Beth, Sophie and Hunter, not to mention a day at the Boo Ha Ha parade with Andrea and the twins AND a big girls' night in (after kiddos were sufficiently worn out and asleep) with Bethie, Andrea and Foster. We had been planning it for quite sometime. Understandably, no one really wants to come into the House of Puke. (Poor Bubs. . .someday when he is about 17 and if he should ever read this entry, might be embarrassed that I referred to the House of Puke. But for the past 48 hours that is exactly what it has been!) We have promised to reschedule, but I know how busy everyone is and I just don't know when it might be possible. So here's to my girls and the time when we can finally get back together again and continue the good times that we have had over the past 15 years. . .
by William Shakespeare
When to the session of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death¹s dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish¹d sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.