Grey day

Despite a short lie-in and a sunny middle of the day, it was a grey day spent mopping fevered brows and mopping up vomit. All poor Conor has managed to keep down all day is 10mls of Calpol. Oatibix and milk were rejected, and laterly even water has been reappearing pretty quickly.

That said, he seems less feverish this evening and was his usual grumpy self when I went up a few minutes ago. Perhaps things will look up tomorrow.

Mr B is also suffering, though in a much more stoical, self-sufficient way. At least he can self medicate with some choice medicine from Dad's whisky cabinet.

Aside from being nursemaid, I put together a long complex letter to our lawyer in France which probably makes no sense at all. I sent the English version too so she can have someone competent translate it. Or even just someone who has slept.

This SP was an accident. I didn't realise the phone could take photos from both ends.