Sunday Morning Flu

Plot and PD took a bike ride through Brooklyn yesterday, down through Grand Army Plaza and East through Crown Heights, where Hasidic men and Caribbean families still manage to get along as well as they can. The route turned West through Park Slope, Cobble Hill, Boerum Hill and REd Hook, ending up in Brooklyn Heights, overlooking lower Manhattan from the Grand Promenade.

Then, later on, BZ came in and Plot and Duck picked her up on the train at Penn Station. It was raining but there were donuts, and then a trip to the green market in Union Square to pick up brussel sprouts, carrots, onions, spinach and a chicken to roast.

So here we are in Plotnik's favorite dream, cooking and eating with Belly, 5H, PD, BZ, Ducknik and several other friends and kids, and then Plot helps clean up the kitchen and then he goes to sleep and then an hour later: OIII.

Chills, fever, digestive system in agony -- and now it's Sunday morning and the Plots were supposed to get together with The Great Dancenik but had to cancel for the moment. Plot is being forced to choke down a cup of TheraFlu, which tastes like the bottom of your shoes. His own son is telling him he is acting like a baby.

But The Great FiveHead is sitting on the bed with Plottie. She's reading the Morning NY Times and Plot is chugging down this evil swill, with the forecast for a day of sleep and then improving conditions all around. Plot always says he likes to be alone when he feels bad, but he's lying.