Cough, splutter, hack.
Thanks for all the well wishes. That bug was a killer. It had me laid up in bed for all of last week, and anybody who knows me knows that I never spend the day in bed, let alone a whole week. Still, a lot got done - I reread the entire Harry Potter series, which is like comfort food for the brain. And I even napped during the day, which I dislike doing tremendously, as I tend to give myself lockjaw (don't ask, it's a mystery to me), and do strange dribbles on the pillow, and wake up feeling grumpy and distinctly unrefreshed. Yeeeeeah, that was far too much info, huh?
Okay, let's all have a look at my Mother's Day pressie. It's a bunch of vintage images, which have been made into cards with pithy witticisms stuck onto them, all happily bunged into a frame. My favourite is the well dressed lady on the end, who informs us that "Honey, you couldn't pay me to be twenty!" Oh yeah, I'm hearing you, sister. I'd hate to be twenty again. All the angst of trying to figure out who you are, and where you fit into the big scheme of things - forget about it! Not to mention all the bad haircuts. Twenty nine is so much easier.
Rightio. I'm off to do some knitting. I'm on a tight deadline to finish this top by the 29th of May. Somehow I don't think I'm going to finish the front, neckband and two sleeves by then, but perservere I must. I might also cough up some pleghm, and put it in a jar for my friend, who works at a lab, to have a look at, because I'm pretty sure that the antibiotics I've been on for 10 days are doing diddly squat, and I'll bet my right arm that my particular brand of bugs are resistant to them. You'd have thought that when I went back to the doctor for the second time that she might have put me on something else, but that appears to have been too much trouble. I've just talked to my friend on the phone, and don't worry, she's all for it. She loves stuff like that, and we all need friends of that caliber, yeah?