In fact it feels a bit like the quietness is sinking into my bones.

Been sitting home all day with my sick boy. He's all feverish, so hot and red cheeked and hasn't got out of bed once the whole day, poor wee sweet.

Keeps tossing and moaning these plaintive little cries in his sleep.

I read him Calvin and Hobbes, took his temp(101.8), fed him some yogurt and tea and lots of grapefruit juice. Held him for hours and hours. Got up and did chi gong, worked on some illustration projects, made tea, started rereading 'Spiritual Materialism'... Carried Sam to the bathroom so he could pee, held him some more-so hot!

He's sleeping again, with a damp cloth on his head.

I'm waiting for the mechanic to call, Dakini's in the shop getting new axles... Waiting for something to happen... This day seems to have been sucked into a vortex of quiescence.

Ah! The phone. The car's done. I called mom, she's coming to sit with Sam so I can walk down and pick it up.

That'll help the stir crazy feeling, if not the moaning boy.