In which I predict the future.

Everything is a lot better around here. My daughter is on the mend. Yay! She sounds much less like a pack of bloodhounds in full cry (for those just coming in, she has pneumonia and it makes her COUGH. A lot. Like this: "COUGH COUGH COUGH. BARKBARKBARKCOUGH! BARK!" Which sounds painful. But it's happening less. So the medicine is working. Three cheers for antibiotics!)

I'm keeping her home from school tomorrow, so I will be home all day. This means more chores will probably be done, although after today, with the laundry all done, the bottom half of the house vaccuumed, the turtle's enclosure cleaned, the downstairs linen closet decluttered, and antique linen napkins that I can't be bothered to use washed and ironed and many, many cootie-catchers, a/k/a fortune-telling devices made and laughed uproariously over, Lord knows what I'm going to find to do. Maybe make Badger's mother's home-made Play-Dough and make little clay foxes from it? For her to catch? BARK?

Wait a minute. Why am I wondering what will happen? I have a houseful of cootie-catcher fortune telling devices! I will consult one.

Unfortunately, I can't upload pictures, because I can't find the connector thing for the camera. So I will ask the cootie catcher "Will I find the connector thing for my camera?" And it will answer. So just use your imagination and play along:

1. OK, with this particular cootie-catcher we got creative. No boring numbers and colors for us. The outside has composers' names. Bach, Brahms, Debussy, Mozart. I pick Brahms.
2. B-R-A-H-M-S. OK, now you get to pick a boring number. Seven! No. Three.
3. 1-2-3.
4. Now--we got creative again--you pick one of the Little Women. Meg, Jo, Beth, or Amy. I pick Meg.
5. Now pick a number again. 1, 3, 5 or 7. I pick ... three! No, seven.
6. And now pick a Little Woman for your fortune. Of course, I pick Jo.

And now, the moment you've been waiting for. My fortune:

P.U. Have you taken a bath lately?

Well, there you have it, Internet. I still have no idea what tomorrow will hold, except probably less barking. Because the medicine really is working. But I'm guessing there will be chores. Maybe some writing. And if I'm lucky, a shower. But probably no connector thing for the camera. And because I love you, Internet, I'm leaving you with your very own cootie-catcher diagram, so you can predict the future, too.