I was having kind of a blah day--not feeling quite myself--and then the mail arrived, with a big box from my friend Mary, and inside was this gorgeous bowl made by potter Jemma Gascoine, who works up north in Monson, and look how perfectly it matches the kitchen tile! Mary's gift cheered me up so much, as did the nap I took shortly thereafter.

My blah day was the result of an infected cat bite on my arm. Ruckus got too excited about playing and sank his teeth into me, and the vampire wounds swelled up and turned colors and clearly intended to make trouble. I cleaned the bite and slathered it with antibiotic cream and talked to my doctor, etc., and the punctures are healing and the swelling is going down. But the infection fight has made my body tired, and I ended up staying home from last night's writing salon . . . I just did not have the wherewithal to make chatty conversation. Funny how something as insignificant as a minor infection can have such a whole-body impact.

I still did a ton of editing, and cooked and washed clothes and picked vegetables and rode my bike and such. It's not like I was incapacitated. Mostly I just wasn't eager for society.

I'm peppier this morning, so apparently I was correct to give in to yesterday's droopiness. And the swelling is continuing to go down on my arm, so things are progressing in the right direction. I've got another long editing day at my desk. I should grocery-shop and prep for tomorrow afternoon's class. I'll do my exercise session and water the gardens and maybe try to work on a poem draft. I'll find something to put into my beautiful new bowl. Last night I filled it with sliced peaches. Today, maybe pale green peppers.