ON Saturday I woke up and the end of the world was not all over my driveway. I had just decided to call my daughter and warn her I was coming after all, when my daughter called and hoped, very politely, that I might reconsider and come, bring the suitcase with which she hopes to accompany her father to England over spring break. So I put my luggage back into the car, and it was a very pretty drive with sunlight and snow caught in the trees, and they only had maybe 8" in Northampton. I made a small pilgrimage to WEBS and bought yarn... well, it was murky green, and beautiful, and who can say, if I don't do seed stitch I might make a sweater. And some sock yarn. Two skeins, one of which I will offer Sarah, since yarn you give away has negative calories, it's like not having bought any. (She took the brighter one, which is fine; I have a murkygreen and red Trekking now)
We went to the paint-your-own pottery and I think my Minoan octopus will be a worthy tribute. I won't get to see it fired until April (Conbust). Then we had Tea in her room until dinner time, which was quiet but fine. I think maybe my lack of ambition to Shop Northampton should have tipped me off that the scratchy throat I woke up with was not a good sign. We had tasty Indian, and then we walked back to her dorm. This made two trips to and from her dorm to downtown. To prove that no good deed goes unpunished, the knee I sprained two years ago-- the one that has been sulking and softly swelling once I started going on the elliptical thing again, once I could breathe after the horrible cold in January-- that knee? began to have big time temper fits. Back in her room, I translated French summaries of articles on Roman North African villas (Ellie took German, because that is what classics majors are supposed to take, so now she's stuck in a francophone research paper). Although this was fun, I don't think any of the articles she had found were useful to her, and I was tired and my throat hurt.
By the time I crawled into Grace and Debbie's apartment I could barely walk and I developed this great little dry cough (amazingly similar to the one I had in January). Grace made me healthful lemon and honey drinks and at least after two of those I had a reason to need to crawl in to bed.
It would be good to be lively sometime when I visit them. They keep getting a guest with the muscle one of a dead possum.
I drove home the next day wondering if my clutch leg were going to fall off (can you get surgical reattachment at a service station?), in time to find Sarah at the bottom of the driveway. She could drive most of the way up. My Subaru said, "Snow? what snow?@@" and we pacified the cats and had tea until the quilt shop opened. I only wanted to take her to see it. Entirely Sarah's own problem that she bought four yards of discreetly 19th century prints. Which she washed, dried, and cut into strips before she left (and says she hopes to sew all the strips together tonight, except she was cutting them up and Rail-Fencing them together, which slows you down).
I made dinner and continued to needle-punch my sheep. Very calming, and I am stabbing myself less.
I spent last night having the kind of punctuated sleep where you are sure you haven't been asleep, and maybe I wasn't. Today at work I had only light alphabetical lifting, which was good because when I coughed my head threatened to explode. Olivia who sometimes works in my office was also coughing and my boss came out and told us to please get well. I came home and took a two-hour nap and will be returning for, I hope, another 8 soon.
Guess what it's doing tomorrow? AND the next day?
2 comments:
Laura, I think that the best cure for a sore throat is Texas.
-Yvonne
I hate those nights. I used to be sure I was awake all night until my husband told me I was snoring, so now I know I was asleep, but dreaming I wasn't. I might as well be awake and up and doing something. I would feel just as "rested" in the morning.
Post a Comment