I was meant to be working in Lavinia and Lionel’s garden today. Yesterday I was due at The Farm and the day before Max’s was scheduled. None of these obligations were completed.
At least I made it to Max’s. Here I struggled on pathetically for an hour before throwing in the towel and staggered home, drooping tail between my leaden legs. I was poorly. Proper “not being able to get out of bed” poorly. Of course it was just one of these virus malarkeys, but it was a truly mean and nasty one. Firstly it replaced the skin on the back of my throat with acid infused sandpaper and neatly partnered this with a rasping hack. It then swiftly moved down the alimentary canal to bring nausea and stomach cramps. The inability to lift my head or keep my eyes open was exacerbated by a raging thirst that could not be quenched. As these symptoms eased a little, it heralded the arrival of a Godzilla versus King Kong headache and I mean H E A D ache, every sinus in my cranium was imploding as they battled it out. Faster than the Barnstaple to Exeter Express this shot down the track of my spine to linger in the lumber region, making lying or sitting painful and standing impossible. Enough now before the word “mucus” or “phlegm” offends anyone. I expect you get the picture. I was poorly.
So what has this meant. Well; no gardening (definitely a bad thing, I have missed being outside, my folk, my cake), no computer (not necessarily a bad thing, in fact a very good thing), lots of sleep (good, but being unconscious for 20 hours a day is not the most thrilling way to get through the week), a detox (also good, but perhaps you should do it for more than 3 days and now I need to build up my strength), an appreciation of my health and how important it is (much-needed and a fine lesson indeed).
This quince lives at L&L’s house. Where I should have been today. But I was poorly.
ps You probably guessed, I am feeling much better.