There has been some mysterious illness going around our neighbourhood. I was sick for about five weeks. I'm only just recovering. In between being sick, I've done other stuff, as you do.
What clearly didn't get done much while I was sick was any writing to talk about. I did revise up to chapter 11 and rewrite some of the little chapter preambles, but mostly I've knitted, spun, read and done some work when I could. For a whole week I lay limply in bed with a fierce headache and nausea that turned out to be reactions to the antibiotic I'd been prescribed.
However, I was well enough to celebrate Motorbike Boy's 24th birthday! When do I have to stop calling him boy?