Accepting defeat
The cold that has been nudging me for a week or more finally came out on top. And with such a shout.
I would swear blind that this is my worst cold ever but then I am pretty sure I said that about last year's cold. My nose runs continually when not blocked and I shiver and ache.
I have given in, you know you are really ill when you put a hat on your head to walk to the school bus stop at 8am and find you are quite unable to even contemplate removing that cosy, nursing hat when indoors, even hours later.
It's OK though, I am going to roll with it. The cushions are plumped and inviting and there is a blanket with my name on it. I have a fresh box of tissues.
I have a good book or two should my eyes refuse to close.
My feet are warm in knitted socks (Colinette Jitterbug, in case you were wondering).
And I have good company. One who oozes sincere sympathy and joins me on the sofa in order to willingly play the part of a hot-water bottle.
And another who still feels a hat on the head signifies a brisk hike to the woods at any point but will resign himself to a light chair nap if I really insist.
The cold that has been nudging me for a week or more finally came out on top. And with such a shout.
I would swear blind that this is my worst cold ever but then I am pretty sure I said that about last year's cold. My nose runs continually when not blocked and I shiver and ache.
I have given in, you know you are really ill when you put a hat on your head to walk to the school bus stop at 8am and find you are quite unable to even contemplate removing that cosy, nursing hat when indoors, even hours later.
It's OK though, I am going to roll with it. The cushions are plumped and inviting and there is a blanket with my name on it. I have a fresh box of tissues.
I have a good book or two should my eyes refuse to close.
My feet are warm in knitted socks (Colinette Jitterbug, in case you were wondering).
And I have good company. One who oozes sincere sympathy and joins me on the sofa in order to willingly play the part of a hot-water bottle.
And another who still feels a hat on the head signifies a brisk hike to the woods at any point but will resign himself to a light chair nap if I really insist.
Comments
K x
I do hope the aches and shivers pack up and leave verrrry soon.
take care,
Nina x
Best wishes!
On a positive note...at least now you won't be getting a cold over Christmas;-)
Miriam
x
Hope you feel better soon.
Those Puffin postcards look seriously enticing. I'd struggle to use them though - I'd want to keep them all in their box and get them out and look at them. I think I'd want to make postcard-y mosaics on the floor.