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Team e-mew here.
Helena, it's always so good to see you! You haven't been a passenger (in spirit) in my car for a couple of weeks, because I haven't driven in that time...but I've thought of you just the same.
Sorry to hear about the chewy bastard, Smartie! We have a repeat winter resident, but he doesn't appear to chew. He or she is a weasel, and I'm sure I've described before how we found him halfway in our living room--through a small hole in the floor--a few months after we moved in here. We replaced the entire floor, so that took care of the hole, but the weasel definitely still lives with us every winter. I can hear him moving around just two or three feet away from my favourite chair. And when it snows, we can see the trail that the weasel's tail makes, as it slides up against the side of the house and then enters...somewhere...mysteriously. In eight years, Mr. Duck has not been able to figure out how it's getting in. Me, I don't care. I never hear it chewing! I just hear it moving furniture. (That's what it sounds like; I hear things like, Thunk. Whop. Thud.)
And now for some whining. I'm sick of being sick! But the fact that I feel good enough to whine about it is progress. I believe I'm finally getting better, because one of my most bothersome covid symptoms has just started to abate. I've had painful sores on the inside of my mouth for about a week (covid mouth instead of covid tongue; apparently it's a thing), and I can tell, this morning, that they're finally starting to heal. And my heart rate, which has been hovering on being unacceptably low, is coming back up. Both the Mr. and I still got strong positives when we tested this morning, but things are looking up. I think.
Happy New Year's Eve! Much love to you all.
Hey, I'm not able to post emojis right now--if I try, I get a Forbidden Error type notice. Just imagine a little heart here, please. Throw in an imaginary smiley face, too, for good measure!
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