Not my kind of day ...

It's been a long time since last I spent such an indoorsy, sedentary day - and it doesn't suit me in the least. Truth is, this wretched cold actually felt worse today than it has all week, and I've lost count of the number of times I've sneezed - in fact, I had to stop there for the fourth of a sudden bout of violent explosions brought on, perhaps, by my coming into the cooler study to write this. So you'll have to forgive a rather introspective blip today - nothing else to think about, really.

Actually, I had to think about bread first thing - I've made all my own bread since the start of the pandemic, but the girls found it so much to their taste that the loaves I made the other day had vanished utterly and I had to get one into the machine for our lunch. This meant decanting 2 kilo bags of flour into flour bins, and I was reflecting as I did so on the beautiful brown paper bags our local health store has adopted for selling bulk flour. They would be just perfect for covering school text books - do they still ask parents to do that thing? I was very fussy about mine; I remember when my mother told me that if was so particular I could do my own books and I used the same technique when it came to my own children's. I cannot think they ever got round to doing it themselves ...

Himself did the shopping for me today; it took him twice as long as it takes me because he doesn't know where things are and I didn't know whether to feel smug or guilty. Meanwhile I finished the last of the guest laundry, though I had to tumble it all dry because it was pouring resolutely outside. The resultant steamy atmosphere at least seemed to unblock my sinuses. Tomorrow I shall have to tackle our own laundry or we shall run out of essential undergarments.

What else did this tedious day hold? Regular doses of paracetamol, several of my Duolingo Italian lessons, doing a sudoku online to check out the new site because my favourite one has had to close down. And popping out to the garden in the rain, only briefly, to take a couple of photos of the cheerful colours which are a big improvement on the oppressive greenery of the late summer growth. The blip is of the heart of the berberis; a bit of a swan-song, really, because I'm tired of fighting it and it's going to go in the redesign of the area just outside the back door. That, however, will require the builder and the gardener to get in touch again and cooperate with each other. We'll see.

Oh - last bit of news: the mail telling me the result of my PCR test of yesterday arrived an hour or so ago. It's negative. I knew it would be. 

Now I'm away to sneeze again.