Sick

For the last week, Mirinda has had a rather lethal cold. Up until today, I’d managed to keep it at bay. But, like all determined germs, this one has caught up with me.

It started with a blocked nose and the feeling that my brain wasn’t connected to anything in my head. I felt rotten.

Still, we managed to go to Forest Lodge garden centre to scope out possible plants for the new beds. We didn’t buy any, coming home empty handed.

After lunch, we took some more rubbish to the recycling centre then moved two more loads from the lock-up. There’s about three left and then, finally, we’ll be in a position to get rid of it.

I managed to make dinner but then, after an episode of Once Upon a Time, I was ready for bed.

I can’t remember the last time I was sick but I’m sure I hated it as much as this time. It doesn’t help that the almost continuous rain has meant that Emma has transferred most of the muddy garden into the extension. There’s little more depressing when you’re sick than a puppy making everything filthy. It’s just a good job she’s ridiculously cute.