Emerging From My Corner

As last week wore on so did my weariness in fighting my chesty cold.

We were glad of two comfortable bedrooms as our moments of respite from nocturnal coughing didn't coordinate for the peaceful sharing of a bed.

The weather was cold outside and windy, so we huddled, one on either side of the fireplace.

J. went out each morning to tend Pebbles and the barn cats, I bundled up to take out cat litter and the kitchen scraps which go to the refuse heap.

I added a large fleece throw to the quilt and pillow in my rocking chair.

In reach are baskets holding magazines, books currently being read, and some hand sewing.

I cluttered the stand with a stack of J.'s soft cotton handkerchiefs, a box of tissues, mugs of tea.

One survives the intermittent chills and mild fever, the snuffling, the sense of being badly abused.

Bouts of rib-juddering coughing, we agreed, were the worst of this, seconded by the sense of lethargy.

I thought of coming in to my desk, attempting to write blog posts, or letters, or work on some project, but the momentum wasn't there.

I laid aside my stitchery and simply doddered over a favorite series of books.

M. and G. appeared with a huge pot of freshly made chicken/vegetable soup and several large oranges.

Although I slept poorly last night, I awoke today with a sense of renewal and recovery.

I was scurrying about collecting laundry when J. called me to the kitchen window to observe the power-play between Nellie and Sally.

There are nearly constant 'playground' clashes amongst the cats--both indoors and out.

Sally and Sadie, the barn cat torties, have been bullied throughout their three year tenure by Willis.

Nellie and his brothers harass Willow the dithery pale tabby.

Charlie stalks about the yard seeking 'someone' to chase.

It was therefore a bit amusing to see Nellie 'treed' on the garden fence post, watching warily as Sally stomped about beneath his perch.

I always marvel at the way a cat can tidily adapt to strange small spaces. 

Nellie, appearing to have only three feet, peers down  from the post, keeping Sally within his sights.

I had a chiropractor's appointment in town so couldn't linger to watch the entire cat drama play out.

The day has been cloudy, but mild and without wind.

My 'adjustment' over [including the usual scolding from Kelli the Chiropractor who always suggests I 'might could' learn moderation in my activities] I stopped at two charity shops, delighted to find that I was breathing easily and not coughing.

[I did notice that other people were letting loose with a cacophany of coughs everywhere I went!]

I completed my errands with a stop at Wal Mart, where I indulged in the purchase of a new quilt magazine and shampoo touted as wonderful for 'silver hair!'

The  reason to be at WM was to buy a case of tinned cat food, the last can having been served for 

feline breakfasts, but somehow one never gets out of the place without a few more items landing in the cart!

There is a Subway sandwich shop within the premises of WM and on a whim I had 'grinders' made for our lunch.

D. was here helping J. when I arrived home--so I shared my 'foot long' roast beef sandwich with him, he having predictably made gagging sounds when asked if he would like part of J.'s favorite tuna salad.

Laundry folded and put away, the floor swept and a bit of tidying done.

I phoned the farrier, whose wife promised she would send him over this evening to give Pebbles feet a much needed trim.

I thought of baking--something [?] but decided that could wait til tomorrow. 

Daylight faded with a sense of deja vu--J. and D. towing that blasted tractor around the yard again!

I'm ready to thump myself down in the rocking chair with a snack and the new quilting mag--to turn again to my book for the evening.

There's a difference somehow--this evening my snug corner is a choice, a restful place at the end of a busy day--not a place to huddle and shiver and cough!