Drooping

Most of the day so far was spent doing doctorish stuff (boring tests, nothing scary) and getting back to our house in the boondocks from the big city, Syracuse.

I came across mention of the Institution for the Sick and Drooping Poor in a series of essays written by Sir Walter Scott. This was established by Dr. Thomas Beddoes, one of those horribly energetic fellows of the late 1700s who prove to us that we are all lazy slugs. He did a little of everything, including opening the aforementioned Institution, researching cures for consumption and scrofula, and experimenting with laughing gas. What a guy. His formative childhood experience was watching his grandfather die when the old fellow broke his ribs. The ribs punctured his lungs and led, in quick order, to his death. It made young Thomas think about lungs a lot.

Anyway. I wish his Institution was still open. I feel droopy today.

And I must revise my book.

dramatic eeyore sigh