Blech! Double blech! Rachael came home Wednesday evening with a runny nose, a cough, and a general feeling of misery. I advised her to keep away from me, but she is a loving girl, and one thing she loves is the “
Family Bed” concept, and hence, will not stay out of mine. So I was doomed to a period of sniffle and snuffle myself. I woke up on Saturday feeling worse than I had in years. Colds used to be an inconvenience, but these days, they seem to lay me flat. I was comforted by the fact that I would get lots of knitting done as I lay around coughing and blowing my nose, but alas! I was too wiped out to even read or knit! And horror of horrors! It was my week to bring
treats to choir on Sunday morning. What to do? Call in sick and not bring treats – leaving Patrick, my treat partner, in the lurch? Suffer and pull something together an
yway? Happily, Patrick is one of those who is enthusiastic about bringing treats, and who consequently prepares a good spread, so my portion of the food was manageable. Rebecca had given me this nice focaccia cookbook for my birthday, and I had yet to make anything from it. This would be just the ticket. Focaccia is one of my choir treat standbys – yummy and easy. Making bread is always impressive to the uninitiated, and actually is not that much work. Perfect for one who has the strength and energy of a wet washrag. But it does take a long time – mostly waiting for it to rise. Unfortunately, I didn’t read the recipe carefully before starting, and too late realized that I should have started it the night before. Oh well, start it first thing in the morning and hope for the best. Also I failed to take in a two hour rise. Oh well again. As I completed each step, I set my alarm and went back to bed. Then staggered down and did the next step. I finally finished it at two in the morning. I got up at six, and draped in a mask like those nurses one sees in influenza epidemic pictures, washing my hands raw, made my deviled eggs. Looking a little like Baba Yaga, I packed up my food, delivered it to the choir treats room and returned home to bed, not waking up till nearly two in the afternoon. I had been in such a haze that I had forgotten to save out some foccacia for myself – except for this one little piece, and none of the sweet pepper version. Maria had managed to snag a hard boiled egg when my back was turned, so at least someone in the family had a fruit of my labor. Later in the day, my appetite was recovering somewhat, and I realized that this had been a sad mistake. The focaccia was delicious, and would have been just the thing to cheer poor suffering me.
Blech! Double blech! Rachael came home Wednesday evening with a runny nose, a cough, and a general feeling of misery. I advised her to keep away from me, but she is a loving girl, and one thing she loves is the “Family Bed” concept, and hence, will not stay out of mine. So I was doomed to a period of sniffle and snuffle myself. I woke up on Saturday feeling worse than I had in years. Colds used to be an inconvenience, but these days, they seem to lay me flat. I was comforted by the fact that I would get lots of knitting done as I lay around coughing and blowing my nose, but alas! I was too wiped out to even read or knit! And horror of horrors! It was my week to bring treats to choir on Sunday morning. What to do? Call in sick and not bring treats – leaving Patrick, my treat partner, in the lurch? Suffer and pull something together an
yway? Happily, Patrick is one of those who is enthusiastic about bringing treats, and who consequently prepares a good spread, so my portion of the food was manageable. Rebecca had given me this nice focaccia cookbook for my birthday, and I had yet to make anything from it. This would be just the ticket. Focaccia is one of my choir treat standbys – yummy and easy. Making bread is always impressive to the uninitiated, and actually is not that much work. Perfect for one who has the strength and energy of a wet washrag. But it does take a long time – mostly waiting for it to rise. Unfortunately, I didn’t read the recipe carefully before starting, and too late realized that I should have started it the night before. Oh well, start it first thing in the morning and hope for the best. Also I failed to take in a two hour rise. Oh well again. As I completed each step, I set my alarm and went back to bed. Then staggered down and did the next step. I finally finished it at two in the morning. I got up at six, and draped in a mask like those nurses one sees in influenza epidemic pictures, washing my hands raw, made my deviled eggs. Looking a little like Baba Yaga, I packed up my food, delivered it to the choir treats room and returned home to bed, not waking up till nearly two in the afternoon. I had been in such a haze that I had forgotten to save out some foccacia for myself – except for this one little piece, and none of the sweet pepper version. Maria had managed to snag a hard boiled egg when my back was turned, so at least someone in the family had a fruit of my labor. Later in the day, my appetite was recovering somewhat, and I realized that this had been a sad mistake. The focaccia was delicious, and would have been just the thing to cheer poor suffering me.
4 comments:
Poor Annie! I'm glad your treats were a success!
Oof, colds just flatten me these days, too. I hope you are feeling better soon!
Your "bad cold" sounds like swine flu to me, but who am I to say. Hoping you feel like reading and knitting soon,soon, soon.
My best wishes for a quick recovery. Colds or flus are terrible these days, especially when you cannot even make use of the free time by reading and knitting. But acutally have to stay in bed and sleep...
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