“I’ve a grand memory for forgetting.” ~Robert Louis Stevenson
“I’m really good at forgetting.” ~my daughter Marnie, age 5
Curses — foiled again by my age-related failing memory. I just received four skeins of The Plucky Knitter Primo MCN (fingering) in a gorgeous red shade she calls Barn Door, and I can’t remember what sweater I was going to make with it.
1540 yards of fingering weight -- for the perfect sweater if only I could remember
I know it wasn’t a pattern I’d made before, and I think it was a cardigan. I think I actually wrote it down on a little notepad file but didn’t save it. Curses! Foiled again! Dadgummit! If you have a favorite cardigan knit with fingering, please let me know!
It’s c.o.l.d here this morning; it’s risen to 14 degrees and heading up to 29. Perhaps its because of my flu, but I just cannot get warm. I’m wearing a long-sleeved thin undershirt, a turtleneck, a cardigan, and a fleece jacket on top of it all, and I have a scarf around my neck and thick socks on my feet. I’m covered with a hand-knit blanket, and another blanket, and I’m still cold. I had a big bowl of very hot oatmeal and cups of steaming tea, and I’m still cold. I think the flu must be ramping up the chill.
On that shivery note, back under the covers for me. Don’t forget to suggest sweater patterns if you have a fave! Stay well y’all.
The nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, best-sleep-you-ever-got-with-a-cold medicine
Today I express my deep and unending gratitude to the creator of NyQuil (I actually know the daughter of the man who created it!). I hate this stuff with a burning passion and I’m enormously grateful for it.
I can’t take the drinkable version. Can’t do it. Ask any of my kids, they’ll verify this. I used to pour the little cup, hold it, and start the drama: “OK, I’m going to do it now. OK, here goes. I’m just going to drink this now. 1, 2, 3, ok, here goes. One minute. Ok, now I’ll do it. I’ll drink it now. OK, here I go, I’m going to do it this time.” AND ON AND ON. Such a baby. I could keep that up, without one bit of shame, for half an hour. And each time I said OK, I really meant it, OK, this time I really am going to drink it.
The thing that made it so good and so awful was the high alcohol content. I do not drink hard liquor, can’t bear to be in the presence of it, that smell, ugh. NyQuil tastes chemical green, and the alcohol forces a shudder. But of course that high alcohol content is what knocks you on your butt, what makes you sleep so hard despite being sick. They changed the formula quite a while ago and reduced the alcohol content, so while it still tastes awful, it doesn’t knock you out to the same degree.
Now, thankfully, it’s available in capsule form and I took two last night and slept like a log, didn’t cough all night, didn’t wake up due to my nose doing whatever it wanted to do (run? clog up? all at once!). So thank you, Dr. Hainer, for inventing such a wonder drug.
I made tremendous headway on one of my cardigan sleeves; just another inch or so and I’m ready to do the little ribbing. I’ll take a photo when that sleeve is done. SO CUTE.
i’m walkin on sunshine, oh oh, and don’t it feel good!
It’s not the sympathy you get, and it’s not the enforced rest and lying-about. The best thing about having a cold is just how DAMN good it feels when it’s over. And O Happy Day, that’s what’s going on with me today. I feel so great!! Even though it’s in my chest now, and even though I sound like I’m inside a diving bell, and even though I have to keep (unsuccessfully) clearing my throat, I feel so great compared to the last few days that it just seems like the sun has come out, the skies are blue, the air is sweet, and so are you. (Note: the sun has not come out, the skies are not blue, the air is not sweet, but you are!)
I woke up with that song O Happy Day in my head, and wanted to post it here, but it’s really so much about when Jesus walked that it missed the kind of oh happy day I mean. This one captures the joy a little bit more closely:
Ah, 1980s. You were not an attractive decade.
socks for Katie, plus a lesson in stress and the immune system.
sock #1
The second sock is nearly at the heel part, so I will finish it when I’m in Honduras next week. I’ll mail them to you when I get home! It has made me so happy to make them for you, and I look forward to making the next pair, too. I’ll use a different pattern, of course.
As immune systems will do, mine crashes after a prolonged period of stress. It’s been working and working, carrying me through the stress, and when the stress backs off just a little bit, crash. It’s kind of fascinating, if you ask me. My stress is still very intense; I woke up at 4:45am this morning so I could get to work early. But I guess the relief is coming, so crash. So just in time for my beach vacation: a cold, thankyouverymuch. Still, I’d rather be there with a cold than at my desk with a cold. If I have to have one.
Off to have a steaming bowl of tomato soup and an intense regimen of ColdCalm. And early to bed, so I can early to rise again tomorrow.
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