I’m in a ...

funny place!

Valiantly I soldier on in the grip of this awful cough and cold bug; the like of which I can’t ever remember being in the embrace of? A tenacious little bugger, loathe to let me go. Everything I do is a struggle, being cuss-awkward I am determined not to give in.  All the while I am hot one minute shivery the next and still it lingers.

Cakes get made for the food parcels I send out, my sourdough starter gets all the love I can spare in my weakened state.  Parcels get wrapped, packed and sent.  My Christmas cards are finally finished; this year I can hand on my heart say not made with love in every stitch... just sheer unbridled tenacity.  Why do I make a rod for my own back I idly wonder? Being all things to all men, women, children and now dogs is a blooming strain I don’t mind telling you.  You try getting feet of clay into a glass slipper...