A day off

...from writing, today. Instead: mother work. Visits to doctor, pharmacy, grocery store for extra fluids and a jigsaw puzzle to keep my child occupied while sick. This afternoon will include himself taking a turn to watch the kid while I attempt to not lose too much ground at work. The lost time (this is actually the third day of illness) may keep me busy elsewhere a while.

I have many memories of being sick as a child, curled up under a quilt. My mind would ramble over the patterns of colors and prints, the squares, triangles and paths in fabric that traveled up and down the hills and ridges of my legs. Here's a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson that I remember from those days.

The Land of Counterpane

Robert Louis Stevenson

When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay
To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bedclothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.