A scurvy knave am I, a thing of chills and sneezes

[desperance]

...Oh, all right, it's not scurvy. But they just had an outbreak on HMS Surprise, and Stephen went ashore for greenstuff and came back with a sloth. This is a Very Important Moment, in the history of this house (our clubhouse, as I'm sure you know, is named The Debauched Sloth; we have example everywhere), so scurvy is much on my mind.

And I do, it would seem, have a cold. It appears to be a deconstructed, anfractuous cold: I had the headache last week and the tight chest after, a sole asthmatic night; last night I barely slept, this morning I slept through the boys' breakfast (! - but fortunately K was at hand to make all good), and today I meant to go to the library and grind haggis-meats and make marmalade and all sorts, and all I want to do is drowse on the couch with Stephen and Jack and occasionally Barry.

Comments

[desperance]

Let us all consider the difficulty of playing "anfractuosity" in Scrabble, and the unlikelihood of its ever having occurred, and the charm of the notion of being first to do so...