c'est moi la terreur

Bilingual already. In this shot, believe it or not, he is spiking a fever, though his mother and I just thought it was the heat of the day. It went up to 102 degrees that night. And we were upset that he wouldn't eat lasagna.

It was a hard afternoon for me, his visit, because with my neck still healing, still a bit rocky, I didn't have the level of energy needed for this guy, whose idea of fun is clambering up and down the stairs fifteen times, even when he's sick. I pray to stay healthy, so I can be the Glamma he deserves.

This week has been about teaching - Monday night one of the final home classes, and last night and this the second-last classes at U of T and Ryerson. And again, I say - how much I love my job. What a joy it is to watch writers bloom and to hear their courageous stories.

Though I do feel swamped sometimes, overwhelmed with other lives. And when I came in from work last night to hear that my grandson had a high fever and my son might lose the apartment he's moving into on Friday because of a screw-up at the bank, I felt ... battered. At least I am not also frantic about my mother's health - though I do still worry about Auntie Do. Anyway, today, all is well. But for a bit of perspective - last night, I watched a mother and five little kits - baby raccoons - climb straight up my fence and clamber along the top and up into the ivy. Now there's a single mother with a big job. Five!