Anything that starts off this badly has just got to get better.
My sister the health care professional decreed that I must quarantine myself: stay in the bedroom all night, all the next day, and the next–but I couldn’t stand it. I had to come down today.
New Year’s Eve, alone in bed: that was a new experience for me. As tired and dragged-out as I was, I just couldn’t fall asleep. But I have to admit I enjoyed the full-scale artillery duel that broke out at midnight–and the ensuing babel of sirens all around the neighborhood. M-80s! Ka-boom! Cherry bombs! Ka-blam! And sirens. I guess Joe College and his friends weren’t the only ones experimenting with indoor fireworks.
I didn’t bother to get up and look out the window. Too many trees obscure the view of any fireworks display–and anyway, I’m sure most of these were free-lance boom-booms. It was kind of fun just listening.
The next night was exactly the same but with no fireworks, no fun. A third night was out of the question.
Because Patty and I were both sick, we have a lost New Year’s weekend to celebrate as soon as we feel up to it. Maybe when it stops raining…