on a fleshy metaphor

it is day seven of the influenza. i am not quite functioning in a vertical fashion yet, but i am on the life side of the death-and-resurrection motif...yes, that one glorious plot-line that God happens to really like. i don't get sick often, but when i do, man! this one was a doozy, and for the life of me, i cannot figure out how i got it. i scrub with soap, take my vitamins, and never get too friendly with public toilets. i also didn't know a single soul who was sick. but, all men are but dust, and it was my time.

the last thing i did do before i went under the shadow of death was go to the mall. figures. evil thing. i'm almost convinced to never step foot in one again. they are great incubaters of nastyness, and not just in the germ department. and don't even get me started on the food court...

so here i lay, with all the evidences of death upon me - stuffy nose, chesty cough, beat up throat, jello legs, bad hair. and, to top it off nicely, i woke up with pink eye. never have had that before.

but, i also feel within my body the breath of life, and things just start knocking about. the first thing to have returned is the sense of humor. that's always useful around here. next, the voice. next, the urge to cook every jamie oliver recipe he's ever invented. these, indeed, are signs of life, and praise God. the waters have not overwhelmed me; nay, my youth is renewing like the eagle's. but it's slow, like the arrival of spring this year.

my joe has cleaned the kitchen for me, bless him! that was a nasty business, let me tell you. and, to slow my chomping at the bit, he is currently taking a jaunt to the grocer for the fixings for barbequed ribs, jamie oliver style. :) so while i'm taking a snail's pace to the land of the living, lying here with my eye drops and my kleenex box, i'll be enjoying the goodness of God in the smell and taste of homemade barbeque sauce.

praise God for He is kind, His mercies last for aye!