SassyBlonde

Oh dear God, save us from the germs that are invading.

So far this year I've been able to avoid the Death Flu, sinus infections and general sorts of colds, but there's always at least one occasion where I'm done in by my students every year, and buddy this is it. I love the fact that parents have no qualm about bringing a sneezing, hacking, snot-dripping kid to my house for their music lesson, even when it's clear the little snotlings can't breathe enough to play (hel-lo... wind instruments, much.) I turned two kids out early and sprayed the whole place in Lysol, but to no avail. By the time lessons were over Tuesday night I had a telltale tickle in my nose and I could tell things were about to go downhill. That'll teach me to declaim loudly about what I'm going to do on my day off, because Wednesday morning I woke up with a head full of wool, a fountaining nose, and headache and body aches that would fell a bear.

I don't think I've ever been less pleased to encounter a cold bug-- that day was supposed to be reserved for a day full of dirty, grounding yard work, and I had been looking forward to it for a good long time. Unfortunately, I spent half of it in bed and the other half of it in and out of my hammock, which was my place to rest in between bouts of weeding. My mind is a strange place-- I refused to let go of the idea that I was going to get something done in the yard, so there are now five neat rearranged rows of strawberries in my garden, lush and blooming and ready for the season.

Of course, my cold was less than pleased about that and I missed the show today because playing woodwinds with a Grade-A head cold is torturous if not dangerous and seriously unsexy, not to mention that I wasn't able to crawl out of bed before it was time to go, so they had to do without me today. I'm sure I'll catch hell for it when I go back, but I'll bake brownies or something I guess. Even if I had gone in then everybody else would have gotten sick and then I would really have been in the dog house.

Yeah, I know. Boo-hoo, poor me, I got to lay in the hammock yesterday and today (because seriously, listening to beginning trumpet players through germ-assaulted ear canals is about as appealing as poking myself in the eye with a fork, so I escaped outside to knit in the hammock again today) but it's not exactly an ideal situation. At least the strawberries are happy, and the garden's set up for planting. Now if I can just get the rest of the yard ship-shape before the Big Barbecue, then we'll be talking. There's no motivation like a little pig fat and two hundred of your closest friends examining your borders, right? And hopefully by Saturday I'll be able to play again so I can go back to the theater. Yeesh.