|Sunday morning, 70 degrees and sunny on the porch! Look, a shadow!|
It ain't the flu, 'cause ah ain't got the fever. But it is a cold that whacks you on the side of your head and lays you down on a fluff of used kleenex and cough drop wrappers. And you stay down for two weeks. Or more... So I'm late with this blog post, hell, I'm late with everything I promised for the last week and half, but I have mastered the fine art of coughing without breaking any ribs.
I really was worried about this cold as it started just after I got my flu shot, and although I could and did easily sink into the curing rhythm of bed rest and hot teas, I did have a class to teach last weekend here at my house and one dear student was already on her way flying in from Boston. I drank gallons of hot herbal tea, stood under hot showers every 3 hours, and inhaled vitamin C. I recovered enough to teach a a fun resist dyeing class to three fabulous students and welcomed in the beginning of the 2013 teaching season.
Aha, I thought. I have survived that dread virus. And decided to celebrate by eating a fairly tasteless reuben sandwich and sleeping out on the porch on the last night of the unseasonally warm weekend weather. It was a delightful evening, bundled up in wooly blankets, listening to intermittant rain showers. But in the morning, groan...energy level - flat, below flat_________. I just couldn't move except for short search and rescue missions for coffee, hot tea, another sweater and my journal.
|Kitty Leon burrowed in to provide warmth and a headrest for my journal|
|Leon warming my porch bed.|