Three out of four of us in the household are sick. The fourth, while healthy, insists that he needs just as much rest as the rest of us because his body is worn out from fighting off the germs. (And if he falls prey to the illness, it will, I have no doubt, be ten times worse for him than it was for any of us. I try not to stereotype, but – MEN!)

It’s nothing life-threatening, just a sore throat and mildly drippy nose. Joy had a fever yesterday, but neither Grace nor I have even had that. Really, it’s more annoying than anything else. We spent what felt like half of last winter and spring dealing with illness, and now here we are in September, right back in the midst of it. And my kids don’t even go to school!

Most of the kids on campus tend to pick up sicknesses from each other, though, so colds and the like just cycle right through. We’ve plans to help combat that – probiotics, plenty of fresh air, vinegar-based hot drinks, indoor herbs to keep the air fresh, more time spent out of the apartment than we managed last year.

At the moment, though, when dealing with cranky, whiny children while suffering through a sandpaper throat myself, the thought of another six months of this makes me want to throw myself out the window.

Time for another cup of ginger tea.