Some time during our little Art Fair estate sale enterprise, I exited my motorcycle the wrong way, burning my calf on my well-heated tailpipe. It didn’t hurt much (and I was so sore from moving heavy things in 90°+ heat for days on end, I’m not sure I would’ve noticed much more pain, anyway), so I ignored it (macho!). A few days later it went from pink to gross, accompanied by a 102°+ fever and associated symptoms. Tuesday morning I went to the doctor, spent much of last week sleeping and guiltily watching Lizz move the remainder of our stuff out of our house (and doing my best to call people to come help). After some seriously heavy doses of antibiotics, I’m nearly back to normal.

This weekend we escaped our currently uncomfortable digs at Arbor Vitae and relaxed in comfort at my parents’ house. Lizz still hasn’t got NYC lined up, and we’re trying to figure out what to do next.

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