Sick again, and it’s getting old. My suspicion is either heat exhaustion, dehydration, sun poisoning, or flu – perhaps even some combination of all of the above. For the past few days, I’ve alternated between fever and chills with absolutely splitting headaches, only to go back to feeling fairly normal, if unusually tired.  Poor little Alex has come down with a nasty cough, and I think I’ve also picked up some of what he’s got. I have the creeping sensation of respiratory fun on the horizon.  Luckily, I still have a stash of that evil Zicam.

The heat exhaustion, if that’s what it is, is no doubt the result of long days working in the heat, much of it out in the sun. I don’t have a schedule, per se, so while I feel more relaxed in my labors, I’m working a lot harder than I thought I would be. Most of our efforts at the moment have been focused on getting the house in decent condition for our family. Tearing out and replacing carpets, moving or replacing furniture, cleaning out clutter and trash, fixing swamp cooler pumps, unloading our things from storage (and unpacking them) and so on. Bit by bit, we’re making this place feel like a home. We’re even supposed to get air conditioning installed, but since the installer knows my father in law and is doing it as a favor, it seems we’re on the low end of the priority scale. It was supposed to happen Saturday, then again this morning, but it keeps getting put off. Luckily, a pounding rain last night cooled things down a bit.

Last week, we went in search of a piano for Kiana, who finally began taking lessons again. We have an electronic piano, but I’ve been told this is a poor substitute for the feel and resonance of the real thing. We found someone who had a British upright piano from the 1850s in storage and just wanted it gone, so we drove way out to the middle of nowhere and picked it up. Once we got it situated in the house, we had a piano restorer come out to give it a tune-up and got a bad prognosis – the inner mechanics were damaged beyond repair. Now we’ve got to get it back out of here and find another free one, if possible. Hopefully next time we’ll get our hands on one that works.

Kiana also started school last week, in an unexpected turn of events. A member of the local Latin Mass community told us that they had just found out that there was a charter school in the city that, while not Catholic, was run by some of the parishioners there.  We called, and despite being told there was a waiting list, mentioning that we were also Latin Massers seemed to unlock a door, because we got a call back within the hour saying that there was room for Kiana to enter the 7th & 8th grade class. Because it’s a charter school, it doesn’t cost us anything, and Jamie tells me the curriculum is very similar to the one she was going to be using anyway. Better yet, we’ve discovered that other parishioners send their kids to the school, so Kiana has, for the first time in many years, a chance to make friends who believe in the same things she does. After just a few days in class, she seems ecstatic about the change, and the change is good for us as well. Although we miss her help around the house, we’re happy to see her so happy, and not having to teach her this year frees us up to do all the work that we’re beginning to take on here in the family businesses.

We made the drive up to Phoenix yesterday, and while there, I tagged along on a visit to a Chinese herbalist. Never having been to one before, I was struck immediately by the pungent, aromatic scent hanging heavily on the air as we entered the office. The clink and clank of metal lids on glass jars punctuated the quiet as various herbs and natural remedies were transferred from one container to another. I sat and listened in to a conversation that spun out in Cantonese, unintelligible to me, and watched as the herbalist – a serious-looking man with a mouth full of crooked, yellow teeth – grunted his understanding of what he was being told before silently making copious notes in Chinese with a ball-point pen. An hour later, after we headed out for a late lunch, we returned to the office to be handed three brown paper bags filled with the musty, spiced ingredients for a cocktail that was custom-tuned to the patient. The whole experience was fascinating in its contrast to a normal doctor visit. There was something peaceful about it, and I found myself wondering if these ancient natural medicines might hold secrets that modern pharmaceuticals and debt-ridden med school grads have no understanding of.

And that’s all I’ve got. Another busy week, and every day brings new adventures. With any luck, things will normalize enough that I can blog more often than once a week, and on more topics than just the goings on around the new abode. Soon. Hopefully, soon.