I am still not feeling well. I’m so, so bad at being sick–I tend to just pretend I’m fine and go about my business and hope the cold or the flu or the whatever just disappears. The first time I dislocated my shoulder I remember pleading with my hosts to just take me home so I could ice it–I don’t want to be any trouble! But I’m just going to admit it. It might be allergies, it might be a cold, it might be some other throat thing, but whatever it is, I’m tired and worn out. That meant today’s bike ride was a very short one, just up to the grocery store with quick stops at the post office and bank, bringing that Richard Scarry book to life. I stopped on Saratoga near Foucher to snap a picture of this cat’s claw just starting to bloom on a dilapidated shed between two houses–one rebuilt and the other abandoned. Cat’s claw is so pretty, but it is also a sign that a structure is being ripped apart from the inside out. It’s the perfect New Orleans plant in that way, I guess. I took a phone call from my dear friend L., who shared sad news, and I spent the rest of the day thinking about how fragile new beginnings are–springtime brings lots of them. I got my groceries, headed home, and decided to call off class tomorrow. I need to stay in bed and kick this annoying thing.