I didn't bother to act surprised...

[noahnic]

Henry spent too long out yesterday and I could barely sleep last night for the nausea (let along eat anything). And what was he doing that was so important? Chasing chickens. He has set up a makeshift coop behind the white house that is two doors down from the blue one where we sleep. There's a couple of rabbit hutches there, too- ten rabbits and, now, seventeen chickens, including a rooster. Henry wanted me to help him round the chickens up from where they were flocking in the wood outside town, so I went along. Twenty minutes of trying unsuccessfully to grab poultry as they dodged, squawked and tried to beak me in self-defense and I hadn't caught one. Henry had caught three in the same amount of time. Clearly I wasn't needed, so I went home.

This morning, as an apology for making me sick, Henry presented me with an empty journal and a large complement of pens. He raided the stationary store and brought me the journal with the best binding and sparkly gel pens because he figured they'd be my style. They are perfect. He didn't actually say he was sorry, but then again, it wouldn't have taken a telepathic link for me to know it was an apology just the same.

Sometimes that cranky old man can be the sweetest thing.