Books 42 and 43: Out of the Deep I Cry and To Darkness and To Death, both by Julia-Spencer Fleming, kept me entertained on my trip to Atlanta. I read both on my Kindle. I don't want to give anything away, at all, but I will say I particularly enjoyed the latter, because it unfolded in a day instead of over time, and Spencer-Fleming used the Daily Office (Anglicans, tell me if I'm saying it wrong) as a frame for the mystery. Loved it. I was bummed to discover the 5th book is not on Kindle, so I had to wait to get home and buy it in paperback. Which didn't happen until today. Because:
As I mentioned yesterday, I've been sick. And since Pure Luck has it now, we can safely assume it was not food poisoning. I'm now guessing it was something to do with the airplane, since RevFun got sick, too, but we don't know of anyone else attending the Institute who got sick. If it was the plane, it had to be something pretty big, because we were seated at opposite ends of the plane. My seat was messed up and I thus ended up in Business Class, while RevFun had the worst seat on the plane, 31F: no window, almost no leg room, right in front of the lavatory. Bleh.
Pure Luck is now weak as a kitten. That is saying something when a guy is 6'4" tall. I really, really, really hope he feels better without needing to be helped across the hall, much less to the doctor. He hopes this d@#* day will be over, soon.
I'm feeling better, but not well yet.
So far, no one else is sick. I'm hopeful they won't be. I was trying to explain how these things are transmitted and Light Princess said, "So I would have to make out with you to get it?"
Um, that's one way.
I did point out to her that I didn't make out with anyone in Atlanta, and that you could also get a virus if someone handled food while contagious. And I have to say, one of those flight attendants was VERY cranky and slow-moving, which is unusual. She served drinks in the Business Class cabin on the first leg of the trip and to the rest of the cabin on the second leg.
Of course, I'll never know, because I am not a crime-fighting clergywoman like the Rev. Clare Fergusson. I'm sure she would have it solved, simultaneously flying the plane and romancing, well, never mind. Read the books.
Edited to add, and yes it was in the wee hours that I added, Book 44, All Mortal Flesh by Julia Spencer-Fleming. Don't chide me. I'm on vacation!