After several days of feeling total rubbish, it was such a relief to wake up this morning thinking that I might - just might - be feeling better.
It’s always that way with a bad cold, in my experience. One day I am looking like Death Warmed Up and feeling totally sorry for myself - which isn’t, as I am sure I have told you before, A Good Look - the next, the clouds
are clearing and the sun is starting to shine through. (Please feel free to use other metaphorical cliches that come into your head at this point.) I have to remind myself of this every time I succumb to the sniffles, the sneezes, the aching head - This Too
Mr B is exceptionally grateful for the fact that the explosive sneezes which have caused him so much sudden alarm over recent days appear to have subsided.
He is certain, he tells me, that nobody else sneezes so loudly as I do, almost as if I am enjoying myself. I can tell he doesn’t believe me when I say that nothing is further from the truth.
Oh, but it was such a wonderful change to open the bedroom curtains and look out over the back garden feeling glad to be alive on what was (for a time at least) a beautifully sunny day. To be fair, our resident robin has been
trying his best to cheer me up over the past few mornings, perched in full view at the top of a nearby branch and throwing his song across the garden. “Cheer up! Cheer up!” he sang. Or words to that effect. This morning he appears to have given
me up as a bad job - either that, or he thinks his work is done and he has moved on to another branch, in another garden to console and cheer another poorly person. I can’t begrudge them that, now can I?
Mr B is delighted to see that I am once more moving light of foot this morning, rather than trudging, sloppy-slippered and miserable, from kitchen to living room as I prepare his breakfast. Mornings in our house are always
busy and it’s my self-appointed job to keep our collective spirits high; when I am below par, we both wallow in a virtual puddle of misery.
better I am indeed. Where yesterday I struggled to the shops by the shortest route, today I take the long way round, enjoying the gardens I pass and saying a cheerful “Hello!” to everyone I meet, instead of shuffling along, head bent against the
wind which made my head hurt more than ever. Even losing all three games at cribbage this afternoon fails to shatter my good mood. After all, as of yesterday I didn’t think I’d make our monthly meeting. I can always blame the cards I was dealt...
The Youngest of the Darling Daughters has required regular updates throughout. She may live some distance away but thanks to the Messenger function on our mobile phones,
it’s almost like living next door to her. As and when she deems necessary, she nags me gently about resting, dosing myself up, not trying to do too much. “Lazy is good!” she tells me, stoutly, when I confess to having spent most of one afternoon
in a cosy armchair and: “I hope you’re going to bed at a reasonable time?” she enquired at precisely 9.45 p.m. last night. It must have been her sound advice that paid off for me this morning.
What a difference a day makes!