A Weekend not in Bed

I'm sitting at home typing this between coughing fits, feeling light-headed and generally spaced out.

I've been ill since Friday, struck down by a wicked virus that's doing the rounds, felling all who stand in its path. I've even had no voice, which some may find a positive by-product of me drooping about. At least they can't hear me whimpering about not being able to eat because my throat hurts so much. We've also had no internet connection in the area since Friday morning which is why I haven't described in lengthy detail all my woes to you already.

On Friday evening I was in such a semi-comatosed state that when Ulysse was discovered to have blood pouring from his nose and a jaw which didn't shut, I just had to leave it to Big J to take him to the on-duty vet. Apparently he was hit by a car, and has had to have it wired up so he's still there being fed and nursed, poor darling.

I would have quite happily have spent Saturday in bed too, but had organised to have my youngest's birthday party for 6 little boys in the afternoon. They had a lovely time playing treasure hunts, war, footie, flour tag (with my pop socks) and pass the parcel. NG made the cake which went down very well, but I was thankful we had asked them for 2 hours and not 3. Tempers were starting to fray and it was with joy that we returned from the footie pitch (Mairie carpark - no weddings that day!) to the sound of parents' cars arriving.

By the evening, what little voice I'd had went on a weekend break leaving me pretty silent during our festive birthday dinner at the local Vietnamese restaurant. I couldn't eat much of the meal either but was given the left-overs in a doggy bag.

Yesterday my voice was still sunning itself elsewhere, so I had to sort out the garage in silence. It sounds a mad thing to do, but I'm doing the flea market with NG next Sunday, and yesterday was the only day I had to sort out stuff I wanted to sell. It took the whole day but the garage looks amazingly clear. I won't say there's almost room to swing a cat...

A trip to the doc today has me dosed up on antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, throat stuff, anti-septics, uncle Tom Cobly and all. My throat is still killing me though. Breakfast was banana milkshake and lunch was a scrambled egg. You could say I'm feeling sorry for myself...