"Batten down the hatches—flu season has arrived!"

Raven survived me dosing him with his dad’s medicine.
He took himself to the walk‑in clinic this morning, mostly because he needed a note for work.
They tested him for Covid, flu, and strep. 
All negative. 
Maybe just a 24‑hour virus.

The littles won’t be down this weekend.
The other parent says four of the six littles are sick, and she is too.
Supposedly it’s Flu A, strep, and norovirus all at once.I think their school system is out for the rest of the week.
Rumor has it that Covid and flu are running through the students like wildfire.

Several counties have canceled school for the rest of the week.

Lamont has definitely died. 
I hate that, and I hate that he had to suffer.
I suspect he’s under the house, that’s where he lived.

The stray cat group I’m in has a saying: the cat distribution center will send you a cat when you need one.
A cat showed up on camera, identical to Lamont except for white boots.
Lamont was always waiting for me when I woke up in the morning. 
I’m going to miss that.
These new strays don’t come out until 2 a.m. or later, and they’re hidden again by 7.

Badger and I tried to take a walk the woodwork shop way. 
We got to the bottom of the hill, and the beagle and terrier came charging out of their yard at me.
Howling, barking, growling.
I told Badger that witch already tried to take a nip out of me once, and once was plenty.
We turned around and headed the Senior Citizen way.
The danger there, of course, is the risk of the pit bull being out.

Come warm weather, I’ll have to suck it up, grit my teeth, and let her drive us to a park.
We won’t be able to keep walking around here.

Tomorrow is another town day. 
We don’t really need to go, but it’s routine.

Unless you want a cat picture, I have nothing else.

My blog is a boring thing.
My life is a boring thing.