I had such good intentions to crack on with some work, and we had a weekend of activity planned as well. And then I caught the lurgy off the poet and, as ever, the best laid plans …
We’d already cancelled our camping trip because he was poorly last weekend, but by Wednesday he’d rallied enough to go fishing, and get ready for work the next day (we were on holiday from work). Then on Wednesday evening I started to get a bit of a throat …
Friday and Saturday were my worst days. On Friday I didn’t even get dressed, and that’s very unlike me. I usually make the weekday morning cuppa too, but on Friday I had one brought to me and was told very firmly to stay in bed. So I did. Saturday evening he had a gig to do, and that knocked him back a bit too. So Sunday’s trip to Birmingham was grudgingly cancelled, so that we didn’t share our germs and to give us chance to recharge.
Today we’re both feeling quite a lot better, though we’re both still very full of cold.
I have the diary to update (hurrah!), the walks report to write and submit, a new non-fiction to start editing, and proofreader/author reviews to do for a previous one.
And I also have books to put back onto shelves as the poet did manage to hang bookshelves for me and fetch the bookcase in from the garage.
So, while I do that, here are a few more fishing photos for your enjoyment: