The word for the day yesterday was "prostration." That's medicalese for "too weak and sick to get out of bed." Okay, technically, I was out of bed. I spent the day draped over the sofa, too weak to even make a cup of tea. Tom brought me tea, and chicken soup from Cafe Orient for supper. I transferred back from the sofa to bed at 7:30, wondering whether I would recover in time for Thanksgiving. One of my guests is elderly; I wouldn't want to give her the flu.

Today, the word is "convalescent." I'm feeling much better, thank you, well enough not only to get my own tea, but to also get dressed and do laundry. I'm well enough to wash dishes as well, but I might fake that one.

I've also been well enough to sit up and knit today. I'm almost ready to turn the heel on the first of a pair of lovely grey alpaca socks for Tom. I'm not making them as enormous bags for felting, as the yarn is fine, and size 1 needles require a lot of knitting to make enormous bags. I'm just making them a little oversized, so they'll fit right if I full them a little. There's a lot of fine-tuning to be done, in this business of keeping one's family's feet covered.