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.
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.