With both of my children, the two still at home, feeling under the weather, the house has been unusually quiet. I have had the washer running and now hear the rhythmic clacking of a sleeping bag tumbling in the dryer and the clicking of computer keys as I tediously copy Dad's journal. So far I have copied six and a half weeks and have about four more to go, July 22, 1947 - Oct. 5, 1947.
I have taken a break here and there to wash dishes, load the washing machine and fold the clothes. I also took a run up to the grocery store for sick supplies; ibuprofen, Robitussin DM, soup, and, of course, more ginger ale. Both Ben and Hannah have spent the entire day on a couch. Good thing we have two.
It's a rather dark and dreary kind of afternoon, good for sleeping, and quiet too. Did I mention that? We had turned the radio on to listen to Christmas carols earlier but then came one with a high pitched woman's voice, not all together pleasant, and Hannah turned it off. Maybe later we'll dig up a Christmas movie to watch. I wonder if we have "The Bishop's Wife"?