I'm slowly, slowly crawling out of my sickness hole, but this has been a very unpleasant week. I still feel as if I ought to take four or five naps a day, though I actually did get a useful amount of work done yesterday, and I even took a small walk in the woods. I wonder if I've had some kind of flu/head cold combination. My level of exhaustion seems ridiculous for a plain old cold.

Anyway, here I am, awake and upright and more or less eager to greet the morning. Tom plans to begin painting the kitchen today. I plan to edit footnotes in an academic ms, begin work on another poet's new-and-selected ms, and perhaps copy out a few of Ted Hughes's translations, if I can find the energy. Or I may sit in a sunny corner and do a crossword puzzle.

Here's my charming new sunny corner. You can see why it's so difficult to resist.