Once upon a time, I couldn’t accept compliments; I would blush and stammer, and say, “oh, no, not really,” (people must have found that so annoying…)
Meanwhile, Buster, who was on the mend and had managed to both ably sing his Handel and play his sonata on Saturday, relapsed on Sunday, and so we’re headed back to the doctor, and I’m praying it’s not pneumonia again. He was supposed to be featured in a jazz program tomorrow night. Right now, that’s looking a bit iffy.
If you don’t see much blogging today, you’ll know why!