“What fields are fragrant as your hands?
….Stars stand in image above.
Give me your mouth to soften, love;
ah, your hair is all in idleness.”
Rilke

I never tire of Rilke. He has kept me company the past few days while my husband has been at work and I have been sick in bed. The flu hit me suddenly Saturday and stayed longer than I expected. It trailed into a sore throat that kept me miserable, though not in bed for the week and brought me to the point of considering calling a doctor, until the symptoms began to decline midweek.

I feel like I lost a week, so it's difficult to believe that St. Patrick's feast-day is tomorrow, and St. Joseph's on Thursday. I thought ahead enough to being a novena to St. Joseph on the tenth, thank goodness, as my Lenten prayers have been slacking I think. St. Joseph is an ideal focus for right now, as the house we live in has finally found a buyer, and we don't know his plans for the apartment we live in. Hopefully, it all goes well. I'd rather avoid apartment hunting.