A spoonful of sugar ... makes the (ugh) medicine go down
Tuesday, July 16, 2013I seem to have caught a bit of a cold. I'm much better today, but this weekend has been a blur of yuckiness and heat and sitting on the couch feeling frustrated because all I want to do is go out and play. I mean, how often do you get summer in London?
And so, instead of focusing on all the medicine, vitamin c, tickly cough syrup (I do not joke, that was the name of the medicine!), tissues and napping on the couch, I'm going to look at my spoonfuls of sugar.
We've had the most incredible weather here; it has been summer dress weather. The flowers are blooming. There are bees! The birds are chirping. The cafes are buzzing. It's really very nice indeed. I have a beautiful vase of peonies on my sewing table. I sometimes walk past just to smell them.
On Friday, I baked a chocolate bundt cake, covered in chocolate (as you do) and filled it with berries for a Very Special Friend's birthday party. We had such good weather. Surrounded by South Africans in London, with food and wine aplenty, it was as if we had never left home. What a treat!
I finished framing my "baby name" papercut for Baby Kayla.
I think it will look just lovely in a little girl's room.
But then, it hit. I was out for the count. No more outings, or loveliness. Just yuck. It doesn't help that The Mister had caught something too, and he had brought home his germs for a big germ party in our living room. We spent the next two days on the couch, grumbling at each other and half watching the TV. We shared a box of tissues, and we cracked open a bottle of tickly cough syrup.
And the one good thing about sitting on the couch and feeling sorry for yourself is this: you need something repetitive to do, something that doesn't require thinking. I couldn't focus on the book I tried to read, and the TV just annoys me. I didn't feel like cooking or indeed eating. I couldn't just sit still, either.
I knitted.
I absolutely love Debbie Bliss's Baby Cashmerino yarn, it's so wonderfully indulgent. Of course the little person who wears this will never know that they're swathed in cashmere and silky softness, but still. Maybe part of the point of knitting with these kinds of yarns is that we, the knitters, love it so much. It's such a treat to work with beautiful fibres, and to see how it knits up into swatches of soft cashmere and wool. We're so selfish like that.
And so, fingers crossed, this vague haziness will soon lift and I'll be right as rain. I'm already on the way back to being me.
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