Sunday October 30, 2005
I’ve run out of anything sensible to say about my cold. Can’t find anything funny to say about it, either.
I’m progressing pretty well, fever gone completely, appetite fully restored, no trace of it going to my chest. Just left with a thick, throaty cough and sticky sinuses. I shall attack this with a suitable linctus and hot rum’n’lemon toddies when I’ve been out shopping tomorrow and after my house viewers have been in the mid-afternoon.
That’ll probably do it but if not I have to visit the doctor’s surgery for a cholesterol test on Wednesday so if I’m still suffering I’ll see if I can’t get a prescription for a good strong antibiotic and clear it that way.
The weather’s not helping, damp, and so warm you might even describe it as hot. Seems yesterday was the warmest late October day since the last time it was unseasonably warm this late in the month. A good stiff frost would help me, I know that, and like enough it’d help thousands of similarly afflicted folk, too.
Hey ho. I’ll get over it one way or another. Graham is set to come home Tuesday, having seen off the weekend line-dancing convention and closed down the bars for the last time before the Christmas lunch season starts. That’ll help.
There are a couple of dinner-dances in November he needs to do and it may be that Dolly and I will go down with him for those; currently we’re treating them as rain-check dates, depending on weather and other committments. A break in December to provide the liquid side of a string of Christmas lunches sounds good to us. We’ll get a fair amount of time together and that’ll give us a chance to do Christmas shopping in Taunton and, possibly, Exeter.
“What do you reckon to the line dancers, then?” I asked.
“They’re quite good fun. Someone ought to tell ’em that people above a certain age ought not to wear cowboy gear, though.”
“Unless they’re actually cowboys.”
“Well, yes. It’d be different then.”
“Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want you to get all cowboyist in your old age.”
“You’ll pay for that.”