Actually, in some cultures, Gentle Readers, that actually means "I am unwell". Amusingly I had a phone call from Miss BlueLambb this afternoon enquiring if I was actually still employed by the August Institution, as I haven't been there for a week (Thursday was the Australia Day Holiday, Friday was swapped for my regular Tuesday off, as we had a half-day offsite thingy scheduled for our whole team & my lovely Boss wanted me there), and today is apparently Wednesday. So.
I have acquired some stinky virus, which has given me a nasty wheezy cough, which is happily producing **TMI ALERT** yellow-greeny slime, a headache, pounding sinuses and lethargy. That's definitely the highlight. I'm still in my PJ's, (not too unusual, I hear you say...) for the third day running (that's the unusual bit - how did I get to the Doctor?) apart from a brief sojourn in real clothes so I could go to the doctor, get anti-biotics for the (wait. Is that hyphenated? Antibiotics. Anti-biotics. Who cares, really?) chest infection, and ... oh bugger, I've lost the thread. I'm sick, y'know.
Anyway, before all this happened, we spent a lovely relaxing weekend in the Hunter, and MGF Kaz and I took some nice pics.
Kaz's Sunday morning sunrise:
Sit up nicely!
Who, me? On the furniture?
On Saturday morning these guys were pictured having a bit of a sleep in, in next door's paddock. Quietly, oh so quietly, I tiptoed round the verandah in my LLBean slides so I could get a quick pic... obviously not quietly enough.
Did you hear something?
Quick, let's go...
On another note, I took absolutely no sewing with me, which was a bit silly in hindsight, because I'd promised Master H that I would make a pouch for his mother's birthday (29th January, oops) - you can tell I'm sick, can't you? I just split that infinitive right down the middle. I promised Master H that for his mother's birthday, I'd make a particular pouch. It's still on the sewing machine. I started it before we went to the Hunter & tried to finish it when we got back from the Hunter, but due to an earlier-than-usual dinner start time, and the incipient virus, it's still sitting there. Very soon now, honest. Mr Golightly pointed out two rules of sewing that I broke trying to get it finished in time - measure thrice, cut once; and, don't sew when you're sick/tired. Very nasty.
Anyway, if only I'd taken it all with me, I could have had it made before I got sick, I wouldn't have let Master H down, and he could have given it to his mother for her birthday (29th January, did I mention that? Oh yes. I'm sick, you know.)
So, no sewing, no work, no fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it's dark. Anybody recognise that? Me neither. I'm sick. Ciao!
PS Thanks to the Peppermint Penguin & the Chairy Godmother for the moral support. I'm still here, for now!