Wife's godson came over and spent Thursday through Saturday with us. He was bored enough to call and ask me for a ride over, rather than waiting for the wife to get off work and pick him up.

He had the sniffles.

But he was sure he was past the infectious stage.

Right.

So the wife and I spent most of yesterday and this morning in bed. Together, with three heelers. Feeling miserable. Hence no entry yesterday, and not much tonight (already medicated myself (Alka-Seltzer-Plus, half dose) and I want to enjoy the medicated sleep as much as possible).

Did still have to drive youngest son to school, giving the wife a pleasant break, but she made all the soup, so we're even.

But I find it interesting that, while I have rarely been sick, and even more rarely taken days off for being sick, that a surprising number of those days have been the second and third of January. I am not, and have never been a partier, so we're not talking hangovers here. It's just that events seem to conspire to hit me right after the holidays (no big mystery...that's when the germs get spread around the most).

The second and third of January have also been some of the best days of my life. When we had surplus bighorn sheep to spare, we always started transplant operations on the second. Sometime I will describe sheep trapping, which I have rated as the third most fun activity a human can do.

But not tonight.

Haven't read any of my regulars for days, but from the news I suspect some of them are experiencing some unusual weather. Hopefully with no serious problems.

But this morning, as I drug my dripping sinuses out into our dry air, I was amazed at how warm it was. Checked the thermometer on the porch, and it said 24 degrees (Fahrenheit). It was positively balmy compared to the 8 degrees below zero we had yesterday morning.

A month ago, 24 degrees would have seemed frigid.