N, as in:

NAPPING—something I have been doing a lot of since Tuesday, so much of it, in fact, that I hurled myself over the threshold of ‘feeling better” and right into “holy shit I have no blood pressure left, help me stand”. Who would have thought that naps could be worse than alcohol? Seriously, Marc has been a pretty nice fellow the past couple of days, not perfect, but very, very nice and patient and has taken care of the monkeys so I could catch up on some rest. (I know, Vrandy, pick your jaw up.) Even Muppet and Piglette have tried helping me out by being perfect little angles (well, except for Muppet who decided to take a flying leap off some piece of furniture or other while Marc was stuck on the phone—I found him in the stairwell bleeding from forehead and nose and complaining that the cat had fallen. The cat? Dude, you hit your little head a bit hard methinks). And I did have to get up and cook, though that was more out of my wanton desire to eat something edible than necessity.

NINTH NEW NEPHEW: No, I don’t have nine nephews, but if you count nieces and nephews the way the French do, then the masculine takes priority. Yep, Marc’s sister plopped out her baby yesterday at noon. A boy. Mom and baby are doing fine, and, I think just as importantly, the little guy’s big brother seems to be holding his shit together for the time being. I just hope they figure out (really fucking quick) how to play happy families so the older guy doesn’t end up with any more serious problems. Muppet and I will be stopping in for a visit later, as we have to go that way anyway.

NEIGE: OK, so I cheated and threw French at you. But SNOW doesn’t fit the N theme. We’ve got some, not a lot, and fortunately it’s not causing too much of a problem any more. In Haute Marne, we had a traffic jam! That like never happens here. Ever. But we had one, a good one, too. Trucks were backed up, some of ‘em were stopped 12 hours, the major highway was shut down, it was a nightmare.

And now, all the witty N things I had been dreaming of have flown south for the winter. Bastards. I hate when that happens. I’ve got to take Muppet in to see the allergist today to find out why he’s all itchy and scratchy—his little back looks horrible, and it’s honestly so much better than it was this time last week. Poor critter is fed up with us telling him not to scratch and honestly I’m fed up with not being able to tickle him senseless without him freaking out on me. I seemed to have timed things so, with the visit to the OSIL, I can actually eat out again!! Yah!! With Muppet! Ugh!