pish pash another day

rake

A cold has befuddled me the last couple of days. What is it about colds that we feel this primal urge to identify just where the virus might have originated from to infect us? Mr FD almost always picks up cold when he takes plane trips, and I was on a plane three days prior to the sore throat starting. My money is on the inbred who stood in line ahead of Mr FD and I at the voting booth and made sure she turned around and couched directly at us every time she had a throat tickle.

Mr FD and I would, almost in unison, take a step backwards every time she coughed, but there was only so much distance that that we could keep between us and the diseased one (ever heard of putting your hand over your mouth, you silly cow!) and still maintain the progression of the waiting line.

And the damn election has resulted in no clear winner, and maybe a minority government. We always seem to live in electoral areas that are totally opposite to the way we vote, so it is merely an exercise in democracy for us when we vote; as we have no expectation that our candidate will win. Ever hopeful.

Last night, I must have overdosed on Berocca because I experienced one of those moments when I felt overwhelming anticipation of good health on the morrow and made plans to match. You know when you have sooked around for a couple days feeling ill, and then have a kumbaya moment of promising The Big Whatever that you will clean up your act and get healthy, really healthy.

So, lying in bed, I made plans to knead bread and leave to rise on the window sill and  to run a 10 kilometre marathon at dawn, before returning home to forage for nuts and berries in the bush land for a healthy natural breakfast with the bread I baked. Then I was going to garden, clean out my closets and knit a tent before morning tea.

Of course the first weak link in my plan was that I stayed awake until after 1am catching up on programs I had missed while away last week. The weather was windy and the wind chill factor made it quite uncomfortable so that nixed the marathon. I didn’t even walk to the mailbox to check the mail, it can wait until tomorrow.

I did clean the ash from around the fireplace, always a thrill. Speaking of thrills, a new washing machine was delivered last week. Just before we made our tree change 3 and on half years ago, Daughter2 and I selected a new washing machine that turned out to have a major production fault. The make has been bursting into flames and burning homes down all over the country. We were offered a fix early on, which we accepted, but a couple weeks ago the manufacturer rang to offer a new machine. Mr FD had the sense to accept on the spot. So, my holiday thrill has been working out the different aspect of using the washing machine. Oh it’s all fun at the Flamingo Dancer Manor!

For the next four days I will be entrusted with the care of Petite Fille, while her parents move their goods and chattels back to their city home. Petite Fille has recently started ballet lessons, so we shall no doubt pas de deux about the kitchen until I hurt some random body part.

I refuse to think about work next week, except I obviously am. Sigh.

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2 thoughts on “pish pash another day

  1. You agreed to a new washing machine from a maker whose earlier makes were setting suburbs on fire? Hmmm.

    Also, looking forward for more pain posts from sasheying about the kitchen with the little ballerina.

    Liked by 1 person

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