On Wednesday 15th December (Diary of a cold, day 12) coughing started to feel vaguely satisfying. Good news, said Richard, it means your body is working. If the cough is making you expectorate it is doing what coughs ought to do which means your body is still working. I expectorate in your general direction mate.
I did manage to hit my writing deadine in the midst of all this and provided Scripure Union with some all-age material for next Advent. Also did a bit of Christmas shopping, walked Fred twice a day and managed to be in for both cooker and washing machine repair people (£100 plus each one, they love Christmas my domestic appliances).
Yesterday, still coughing and using paper tissues, I went to two carol services and two parties. In the first service I was on young-person control duty in the balcony. Managed to avoid flinging any of them over the side.
Helo, what's your name?
Alex
Where do you come from?
The balcony
In the first party (neighbour's 60th birthday) I was told I was a trendy vicar, not for the first time in my life, but are the clergy really so old now that a nearly 50 year old is trendy. God help us all.
After two weeks of being alone with a virus I found the crowds very scary. I kept telling people this and they didn't believe me but that is the problem for one so steeped in sarcasm. When you tell the truth they think it is a gag. Resolve to tell the truth with a smile on my face for the next few months.
Today cold virus is on day 17 and I am still sniffling. When humankind is long gone this cold virus will still be around.
Someone gave me a £25 book token to 'Buy a conservative commentary on Jonah.'
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