Back home and back into it. The house clearance continues apace. In my absence, Mirinda has been de stuffing the house like a whirlwind. I have rarely seen her so determined. Memories of the Weird Box of Receipts, which remained sealed for ten years, are fading as she chucks out everything she lays her hands on. I think it was the Dural Experience which has given her a previously unknown, impetus.
As for me, I could do without having a cold at the same time. But I had to go shopping so I set off, warm in thick fleece and gloves…both of which were quite quickly removed when I started getting over-heated. That had nothing to do with the cold. I always get over-heated. My thoughts always turn to my time above the Arctic circle when, each morning, I would get the dogs ready wearing just a light fleece and jeans.
Of course, in Starbucks, I was admonished for not wearing my fleece and gloves because, they said, it was too cold not to. I told Sue and Hannah that they were being a couple of mothers, which they are, of course, and they should stop it. I didn’t tell them I was sick with a cold.
So, yes, I have a cold. No, I don’t get a day in bed to get over it. My nose is runny, my head feels full of porridge, and I’m lethargic. Okay, I tend to feel a bit lethargic quite often but that’s through lack of sleep. No, I am sick.
And I haven’t been sick for a very long time. I know it’s basically nothing, a cold which will be gone as quick as it appeared, but I don’t like it. The leaden head is possibly the worst bit. Actually, with everything frozen and the ground awash with frost, my head feels as impenetrable as the bird bath.
We managed to take loads to both Phyllis Tuckwell and the recycling centre today, which is some real progress. Mind you, the house looks like a bomb’s hit it. There is still a mountain to excavate.
Oh, and I made my bread sauce today.
