The cute little trash bin at my bedside that says “some work and all play makes me very happy” isn’t at all telling of my current state. Nor the iceberg of tissue inundating it. I thought today I will be at The Front Room or at least in town but I feel too sluggish to walk more than two feet from my bed. I am foiled, like so many before me, by a cold.
The sun is out and everything is bright. It’s 4 degrees but feels like zero. We did not have snow in this part of England this year. The wildest we have are rain and freezing wind. The wind is sometimes strong enough to cause imbalance to my underweight self.
I live in one of those quaint historic towns with cobblestone street, brick buildings, wood-beamed pubs and hanging planters. Each side of the street is lined with street lights. On mornings when it is not raining, that particular street will be shrouded in thick fog. With the yellow lights all muted to a soft glow it’s like being transported in a dream or walking straight to a postcard complete with a century old church with a clock tower. On mornings like that, I don’t mind being up early at all.
Now back to my current circumstance. I need more water and tissues.