Or, by its normal name, whooping cough. Yep, my campus has it. Lookee.
I caught a "cold" a week ago… nothing major, just a runny nose, sneezing, sore throat, mild fever. Turns out that those happen to be the same symptoms of whooping cough.
So, Part II, just as I promised! Our hero returns to his place of higher education just in time to catch the epidemic! The evil cough laughed insidiously, "whoop whoop whoop." It had its foe in its evil snare!
Will the hero survive? Will he overcome!? Tune in next time for either: The Enigmatic Epidemic, or Whooping the Cough!
Okay, I’ve got a headache. Bedtime…
Wow. Thanksgiving vacation just a’rolled away. Synopsis follows:
- A day before holiday begins, my youngest sis’ is admitted into a hospital due to not being able to eat for nine days
- Days 1 and 2 – Spent in the hospital trying to cheer up poor Skippy (nickname); it’s awfully hard to do that when brain surgery seems likely
- Day 3 – Brain surgery is cancelled, Skippy is released, and vacation really starts–
- –or not. All of my sisters have caught a vicious flu!
- Day 4 – Spent in my room studying, staying away from said flu
- Day 5 – The Christmas Tree™ is brought out and adorned; three puppet shows are given by Skippy and me to the entire family
- Day 6 – Skippy is sick again. Possibly going to be sent back to the hospital
I will say this, that of all the unique holidays ever experienced by mankind, this could compete. Maybe not win, but compete.
Which is more restful? College — quizzes, tests, papers, speeches, friends; Home — illness, flu, illness, hospital, illness, family? To be continued… (or, the dual-personality of daquell. Up next!)
Estoy débil y el sufrimiento, pero me regocijo!
Je suis faible et de la souffrance, mais je me réjouir!
我觉得弱, 又很痛苦, 但我也欢庆！
I am weak and suffering, but I rejoice — Thanksgiving is only four days away. (Thanksgiving, ergo sleep). I have 70 stories, a practice card, and a 5 page exposition on Genesis 22.
(if my words or grammar lack,
Google Translate caused the slack.
thankfully my words are mended:
a translator I’ve befriended!)
I remember when my grandparents used to tell me about the old days, the good ole’ days, in fact, when Television was called Radio. After the all-pervasive ‘Tube came out, though, nobody thought much about Mr. Radio. He sort of crawled into the corner, pulled his antennae and dials around himself, and quietly slept. Slept, not expired.
The GameBoy was the amazement and joy of ever eight-year-old. Of course, it only had a black/white screen. And yes, there was no joystick. The games were rather small. All of these negatives disappeared beside the base that made the Boy huge. Portability.
Mr. Radio is back. He’s discovered the same magic that the GameBoy found. Of course, he’s changed his name to Mr. Internet Radio. Everyone seems to be doing Mr. Internet Radio’s dance these days. He’s even come up with a new meme: podcasting. Connect any decent mp3 player to a blog, download the podcast listing, and voila! instant radio-to-go, complete with coffee and grapes.
I cannot offer coffee or grapes on this blog, but I can offer podcasting. As soon as I get my venerable microphone, Ike, back into working shape, the radio shows shall commence. Time permitting, school dependant, and Deo Volente, of course.
As a teaser, here is a radio drama my younger sister and I started when we were young.
Once upon a time, there was a small child named Daquell. He was maybe four years old. Every day, Daquell ate peanut-butter and jelly. He at it for lunch. He ate for mid-day snack. He asked for it for breakfast. If dinner was something against his liking, he was the first to suggest a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich.
Day after day after day. Peanut-butter. Jelly. Two pieces of bread. No variation. Day after day after day.
One afternoon, Daquell had just sat down to his favorite meal. It was a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich! Hooray! He took a big bite! And then Daquell discovered that he hated peanut-butter and jelly! He couldn’t eat even one more bite! It was terrible! Sickening! Gross!
And from that day forward, Daquell despised eating peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches. And he lived happily ever after eating grilled-cheese.
The End? (not likely. look for part II coming up soon to a blog near you!)
Despite popular belief, I am not dead. If I were dead, I could not have written the word Horticulture. As the man announced: “I think, therefore I am.”
A main reason that I’ve been quite despondent in my posting is this. Week-before-last, when performing an upgrade to the blogs, I deleted the entire website. Completely. Kaput. Irretrievable. It’s taken the past two weeks to fully recover. I got the facade back up within an hour or so. But the internal site itself… that’s another issue altogether.
I shall post this weekend while studying for a New Testament messages test. And I shall update the Tale of Wraith Daquell. Aeden just discovered reams of new information that needs to be parsed and posted ASAP.