I’m still sick. Today I ate toast, some almonds, a few bites of an ill-advised new flavor of Campbell’s soup (something with pork and beans, though not the classic Pork and Beans, which would have been preferable), half a Trader Joe’s frozen stromboli, and some macaroni and cheese with broccoli. You can see that the virus is affecting my judgment. I had great plans for this week involving short ribs and polenta, but the way things are going it’s going to be Spaghetti-Os and very stale Texas Toast by Friday.

This afternoon while I was lying on the couch watching episodes of The Office (UK), Laurie and Iris went down to Joe Bar for a crepe. They got cinnamon-sugar with whipped cream on top. On the way home, I am told, the following conversation occurred (I realize it strains credulity, but then Iris repeated it for me several times at home):

> **Iris:** Iris singing a little cinnamon song.

> **Laurie:** How does the song go?

> **Iris:** Cinnamon, cinnamon, cinnamon.

> (pause)

> **Iris:** It’s on iTunes.