A plague within this house.

Well, not literally the plague with the black buboes and fluid in the lungs, but certainly a plague. Of a sort. My mother caught a very nasty cold in mid January and only just stopped coughing like a consumption victim this week, then passed it on to my niece and nephew who recycled it, gave it a special 'tweenie-teen spin and gave it to me. I've felt a bit like I was wearing the lead apron they put on you at the dentist to take your x-rays all week--not only did I have the weight on my chest, but I've been tired from carrying it and greatly disinterested in doing anything. Not working, not knitting, not nothin'. So that's what I did. I got my federal tax return this week, so while it would have been smart to do the work, it wasn't absolutely necessary.

I'm very glad I didn't get my mother's version of the disease, though. Just watching her deal with it made me hurt. She's got some serious old lady cojones, you know? I'm such a weenie, if I'd caught her version of it I'd probably have lain on the couch all week, crying. She managed to not only get up and dressed each day, she went out to breakfast, took care of the children (hence their own tussle with illness) and clean the kitchen every evening. I'm so weak.

Before I fell ill, I decided to do something for myself I've wanted to do for a very long, long time.

I made myself a red velvet cake for Valentine's Day.

 It was nummilicious. I think next time I will use my brother's cake recipe (which I will have to wrestle from him), but stick to her icing. I actually think I'll just change my cream cheese frosting recipe to hers, period, for every application, reason and season. That stuff's da bomb. The marscarpone cheese just makes it, in my opinion.

In other news, I tried to get new photos of my cats. Yeah, good luck to me.

 Elvis does not know you, but he does not like you. Not one bit.

I did manage to get a few good shots.

 The only good picture I have of Yoda--he does not like cameras.

Very artsy, though, no?

Here's a halfway decent shot of Elvis.

Yes, I keep a waterproof sheet on my bed. Yoda has reflux.

Change my sheets once after a massive wet puke, shame on you....

But the shot below is an example of why I have trouble taking pictures of my cats:

They see the stupid camera come out, they flinch away as if the flash is battery acid. Yoda is particularly averse to the camera. I can't tell you how many pictures I have of Yoda, looking straight on to the camera with his eyes squeezed shut so hard it looks like I just poked him with a sharp stick.

Le sigh, and he has such pretty green eyes. You'll just have to trust me on that, but he does. They're a couple shades darker than Elvis', a lovely spring green turning to pale gold at the edges. I've never had a cat with green eyes before, I find them quite taking.

One day, Yoda. One day. I will get a picture of your eyes.