I don't know what I have done to upset the Good Lord above lately, but life has not been going as swimmingly as it used to. I have had the world's longest lasting virus, coming round to re-visit at least four times now and please don't tell me to go to the doctors. I did. No antibiotics given any more, unless, I suspect you are at death's door and it probably be too late then anyway, so what the heck. The doctor directed me to the pharmacist for advice as to what I might take to alleviate my symptoms. Hey, nice work. I want her job. all those years of training and all you have to do is direct the medical traffic. Nice little earner.
Yes, I can see I'm digressing. So that's the virus and then there is our house move - or non-move I should say. Here we sit among all our packed up worldly goods and chattels whilst the people living in our new house make up their minds as to whether they're gonna buy another house or what. At least, that's this week's thinking on their part. Who knows - I don't think even they know what they think and we don't. We just quietly climb the walls and metaphorically swing from the chandeliers. Now the sun is shining and spring is here and I am still wrapped up in winter woollies as all my lighter clothes are packed, ready to go. This could be the case for some time to come!!
So, life is not all beer and skittles just now. However, there is still the latest book to be written and as I am only two thirds of the way through, the writerly nose has had to be re-attached to the writerly grindstone, in spite of much coughing, spluttering and nose-blowing going on.
Spouse, in his wisdom, decided a day out would be in order, to lift me out of my fit of the blues which had descended due to my incarceration. (No doubt you have noticed that already, dear reader. I am not my usual sunny self.) 'Let's go to Thirsk,' says he 'have a good lunch and do some shopping. Nice bit of retail therapy, dear to every woman's heart.' I readily fell in with this suggestion and brightened up immediately.
The day dawned, quite bright and sunny, if a bit cool still, but it was only March. We tootled into Scarborough and did our business at the bank and then partook of a hot coffee at a well-known coffee chain, whilst I made some notes for the next day's scenes in the book. Inspiration had struck and I needed to stay on its tail.
Soon we were heading back to the car park, ready for our adventure to Thirsk. 'How long will it take us?' I innocently enquired. 'Ooh, about forty minutes,' quoth spouse and headed off out of the town. Well, all I can say is, if I have no sense of direction, which I readily admit to, spouse has not one iota of timescale. Admittedly at one point he turned off the main route and opted for the 'country route' - winding country lanes, made sodden by the continually pouring rain. Did I mention that? No I don't think I did. We left sunny Scarborough in the morning and heading out to York and Thirsk, the rain started and then never stopped for the rest of the day.
So, there we were, hiking a round the back roads of North Yorkshire in filthy weather, adding at least another hour to our journey time. Lunchtime came and went and with it my appetite for my lunch and this expedition. Hurrah, eventually, we reached Thirsk, drove around the market square and the town and headed off back to our coastal domain, this time taking the direct route that got us home in an hour. I could have been brave and trudged around Thirsk in the rain, but just getting over flu, viruses and the like, didn't fancy putting myself up there for another dose of something. so I chickened out and watched the raindrops for in-car entertainment.
Well, that was a fun day out wasn't it? And it wasn't over yet. To make up for the lack of lunch, we decided on an Indian takeaway treat. Dinner plates and red wine were set to warm and the table laid with lick-smacking anticipation. The order was placed and spouse departed to fetch our supper. We even had little starters - small bundles of joy in the form of onion bahjees, followed in my case by a Chicken Jalfreize and Rice. Spouse had the house special, which was something unpronounceable but tasted delicious. My Jafreize however, was completely inedible - tasting very badly of burnt garlic and burnt chicken.
This was not turning out to be the best day ever. And to put the icing on the cake, I paid a visit to our downstairs cloakroom late evening, only to find the greenest of green and fattest of fat slugs happily curled up on the edge of the handbasin. Normally, slugs are the most revolting of creatures and why the Good Lord in his wisdom created them is quite beyond me. Now, you may say it was the read wine lending a certain glow to the proceedings, but I thought he was just the cutest little slug I had ever seen. He seemed to be smiling to himself in contentment at the billet he had found for himself.
Spouse promptly put the little chap outside where he belonged, leaving me to ask the question once more - dear Lord above, what did I do so wrong lately and worse still, what is waiting around the corner to happen next????? One day at a time, maybe it can only get better ....... can't it?