Bronchitis. No, thank you.

As my Austrian doctor told me, "The cold air and cigarette smoke is hard on Americans their first winter here."  So, stuck mainly indoors is how I have been for the last week. I have never had bronchitis, and I never want it again.

I will pause in order that those of you who know me can pen a sympathy note to Tony for having to put up with me for help me recover over the last week.

However did I amuse myself during this time, you may ask?  Well, when I wasn't cleaning the grout on the kitchen floor tiles, I was making cookies. Thumbing through my 1968 "Time Life Series Recipes: The Cooking of Vienna's Empire" cookbook, I chose vanille kipferl, tiny crescent-shaped shortbread-like cookies that my family promptly devoured.

56 cookies were consumed in less than 24 hours. That's my family. My encore was a poppyseed cake later in the week that is a mere crumbly shadow of its former self, too.

I wrapped a couple of presents. 

Clayton Theodore, in the meanwhile, gave up on me and settled in for a long winters' nap.

My goal was to be well enough to not disrupt Anna Grace's violin recital this past weekend. I am happy to report that I made good on keeping the seal-barking to a hush-hush during the Gavotte in D Major violin duo performed by my beautiful daughter (parental bias notwithstanding) and her instructor.

And so today, Monday, I awoke with high hopes for a trek to Kahlenberg with Clayton Theodore. Alas, the paths that were not icy and slippery, were instead muddy and slippery. Not to mention the fog. Neither of us had a great time, and we didn't make it to the top, but there's always tomorrow.