I woke up at 4am, and staggered to the mirror, one eye was stuck shut and my nose was bleeding slightly. Someone had stuck shards of glass into my throat while I slept.I looked like a pasty pirate after a fight. I have Flu’.
I went to the kitchen and bathed my eye open with some cold tea, yes it works if you have an eye infection, but omit the milk and sugar!
I made myself a cup,(with a new tea bag) and poured a couple of teaspoons of honey down my throat ,to lubricate it so that I could swallow and to use it’s anti bacterial properties for the soreness. As I put out my arm to switch the kettle of I misjudged it and burnt my arm on the spout adding insult to injury.
I went back to bed wishing I had taken more care of the Rev. and son when they had it, they are so prone to “man-flu” that I thought they were exaggerating a bit. They weren’t!
The Rev. asked me if I was all right and when he was sure it didn’t require one of my early morning trips to A&E, went back to sleep. So I read my book “Je t’aime La Folie”. I borrowed “C’est La Folie” from the library before Christmas and was hooked. This guy, who writes a column for The Telegraph, had bought a dilapitated small holdling in rural France and was learning to run it. My dream!
I used to live on the South Coast where on a clear day you could see it,my Father worked there often and wanted to retire there, but circumstances and an untimely death prevented it. I long to see the places he told me about.
As I shivered an wobbled about in the garden sorting out my girls who have brand new plumage after their moult, Murphy, the lightest coloured hen looks as if she is wearing a beautiful pair of white frilly knickers. I asked them if they would like to live in the South of France. Now these are Scots lassies hatched and bred, Mrs Fergueson the big black and gold one, eyed me and I thought I heard her say, “Awa with yer the noo, all thaat sun , nae good for us , ya ken”….
She is quite wrong of course.