Hobkin sicked up his dinner last night. I think we were pushing too much food too quickly on his recuperating tummy.
The evening was a repeat of last night’s. Fed Hobkin small bits of veggies and bread by hand at regular intervals. Sometimes it’d stay down, sometimes it wouldn’t. But he’s not dehydrated and he is getting some nutrients into him. He’s quite active, not lethargic at all, running about, attacking socks, stomping at everything, so we’re continuing with our current course of care.
Managed to get him to take Pepto Bismol by soaking a dose of it into a piece of bread. He appears to like minty bread well enough. Maybe it’s just the liquidness of it he doesn’t like? Anyway, that seems to have helped.
Me, I have a headache and my insides are definitely unhappy. It’s stomach flus all around. Blah.
Despite the questionable health status of everyone, Matthew still tried to put together a fun St. Paddy’s Day. He made vegetarian Irish Stew. Shooed me out of the kitchen so I couldn’t see what he put into it, but it was very yummy. Even on my sensitive digestive tract.
One good result from all these sedentary evenings is that I’ve been getting a lot of writing done.
3000 more words on the novella. Plowing ahead. The real test will come at the 8K word mark. Something usually starts going wonky with my flow when I breach the “this ain’t a short story no longer” marker.
Also scribbled up a synopsis so I know where I’m going with it, and did quite a bit of research to shore up my facts and details.
Been actively putting into practice the “if I get stuck, skip the scene and go on to the next” stratagem. It’s working great so far.
Wish I felt a little less lightheaded.