Day Nine...

Delirium has set in. My husband has lost fourteen pounds, my kid's cheeks are looking hollow, but pioneer stock will tell and I was built for harsh winters. On these, the days leading to our celebration of Thanksgiving, I feel certain that, had I been around, I would have been at that first feast. Long, disease filled ocean crossings, unforgiving seasons and lack of food would not have done me in. I'm like those little frogs that can hibernate for years until the rains come again, then spring to life, hardy and robust.


My husband has hid the scale, he says I don't need it that I look like the day he married me. He's lying because he wants toast with his butter for breakfast tomorrow. It won't work.