It’s one of those colds where your face feels like it’s been injected with lead, and when you blow your nose your handkerchief resembles a map of the universe just after the Big Bang (come to think of it, we watched an episode of Mythbusters last night where they tried to paint a room using explosives, and the overall effect was not altogether dissimilar).
I’m currently looking for a good, cheap immune system on eBay, as the one I have seems to have broken down. (Or perhaps someone could lend me one? Just for a few days. Promise I’ll let you have it back by Friday…)
But, other than sleeping, I have done a lot of knitting; in fact, other than sitting with my mouth hanging open and trailing strands of drool, which I’m hoping will add to the general waterproofing effect of the yarn, this has probably been my main activity over the last few days (i.e., averaging about 3 hours per day, in 40-minute instalments).
As a result I’ve finished front and back, joined the shoulders, knit the collar and am now well underway on the first sleeve. (I always hoped to finish the gansey by Easter, and that looks eminently doable now.)
Assuming we make it that far—we’re going through a phase of deep low pressure systems barrelling their way across Scottish Highlands every few days and the next one is due tonight, winds gusting up to 70 mph. As I type this, the tree at the bottom of the garden is thrashing about like Treebeard with a beetle in his boxer shorts, and rain and wind are lashing the windows as though God’s caught my cold and is sneezing his heart out.
Me? I’m going back to bed. Wake me when it’s summer…