In my continued efforts to cheer up T. (she stayed home from school on Monday) I came home from work and we made these cupcakes, and T. licked the bowl clean. By 5:15 the kitchen smelled heavenly. At 5:30 a friend came by to check up on us. She sniffed the air. "Your house smells divine," she said. Then,

"How's T.?"

"How's Scott?"

"How's Willa?"

"How are you?"

We're all in recovery mode around here. My bronchitis is almost all cleared up, Willa got her stitches out yesterday, and T. soldiers on, waiting for the hives to dissapear. Scott tells me Willa was very brave at the vet. She has to wear her snazzy special collar for another week, just to make sure she leaves the incision site alone. But she is so much happier now that she's pain-free and on the way to becoming fully mobile again. We didn't have any doubts about whether she needed the surgery, but if we'd had even just one tiny niggling one, it would have vanished now that we see what a difference it has made. 

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On Thursday the kids and I pulled up in the driveway and found a young squirrel dragging its hind feet. I had seen him earlier in the day, but when I went to track down a box to put him in, he had disappeared. When we came home there he was, unnaturally still despite our presence, bright-eyed, but because of fear and pain.