The Curmudgeon is Ill

Hello dear readers.

Mrs. Curmudgeon here. My husband is down with a fever. Determined though he was to write a column this week, I have told him in no uncertain terms that he's in no condition to do so. To be frank, he's been intermittently delirious, and there's no telling what he might have come out with. I'm doubtful it would have made much sense at all. And so I've hidden his list of gripes and will be doing the same with his computer. There will be no column this week. I trust this will not cause worldwide panic, and we will all live to see another day. That is all. Mrs. C.