two kinds of cold and a bowl of soup
Dancing Beastie has been a little erratic recently, for which I apologise. The truth is that my thoughts have been on other things. In fact, I would go so far as to say that my head is full. (You must appreciate that, since my brain injury, it doesn’t take half as much thought and information as it used to to fill my head.) I have been pondering new beginnings: expanding my writing and photography into more areas, perhaps; a new approach to food and diet, and a possible new source of (voluntary) employment. All those ideas, in other words, that you have around New Year and usually (in my case at least) have allowed to evaporate by the time February comes in.
A powerful post by my blog friend Heather helped to galvanise my resolve. (Thank you, Heather!) This year, I am going to try to hold onto the idealism of January and actually try to realise some of these plans. The only way to do it is to shut your eyes and jump in. Rather than blogging, then – or I should say as well as blogging, as words and images for Dancing Beastie are always in the back of my mind – I have been busy this week signing up for things before I could talk myself out of them. Thus I found myself in the middle of a rather delicious detox diet (but with a fearsome caffeine-withdrawal headache) at the same time as trying to write a ‘why do you think you are suitable for this job’ piece for an application form, with a deadline of the end of this week. The last time I had a job interview was, umm…just over eleven years ago. So you might understand why it’s taking up a lot of head space.
Meanwhile, in the world out there beyond my laptop, it has turned properly cold and frosty for the first time this winter. We were staying with friends last weekend up in the hills, where there was already a bit of snow.
Britain has just caught the edge of the massive area of intense cold hanging across Europe, which means that we have been getting pleasantly bracing temperatures of minus five or six Celsius (around 22 F) first thing in the morning. The lochans have frozen over almost completely in the last few days,
so small boys can have a lovely time smashing the margins of the ice with sticks.
Just as the lovely tingly cold weather hit, however, I managed to catch another cold from my darling son. When you’re fizzing with germs and not feeling very hungry, the best comfort food has to be soup, don’t you think? So I made a big pot of vegetable soup with what I could find in the larder. Into the pot alongside the predictable carrots, parsnips, cabbage and so forth went a generous amount of chopped fresh root ginger. This was an experiment, but I think it was a very successful one. I’d recommend it for when you’re in need of a bit of a boost: you can almost feel the antioxidants setting to work!
Unfortunately, my son (who will not eat soup of any description) has since developed his own particularly nasty form of the bug we all have. A frighteningly high fever and sore throat have made him really very poorly over the weekend, poor lamb, to the extent that we spent this morning (Sunday) at the nearest cottage hospital rather than at home in bed where he should have been (but that’s a rant I’ll save for another day). Thank heavens, the fever has broken today and I think he is on the mend, though a duvet day is in the offing for Monday. It seems very bad luck for him that this illness hit on our first weekend of decent snow cover. The boys had been planning all sorts of sledging exploits and so on but, in the event, the younger one managed only about twenty minutes in the snow before exhaustion and soaring fever returned. Still, at least that was just enough time to chuck a snowball or two at his loving mum. That’s what winter should be all about, after all.
What with a head full of job applications, plus broken nights, a sick child and the rest, I’m not feeling very coherent or creative at the moment. Please bear with me! And I hope that you have had a lovely weekend, snowy or not.
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