Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Whistler's Mother

Wuuurgh... not feeling good!

Have honked, hooted, coughed, sneezed and sniffled all over the weekend - but last night was the most orchestral.  Even the breathing between coughing fits sounded like a geiger counter.

I've offered to sleep in the spare room but Al wouldn't hear of it.  Think he might change his mind tonight...

Been shivering under a shawl I crocheted back in 1968.  Glamorous it ain't - it makes me look like Whistler's Mother - but I love it at moments like this.  Buster was press-ganged into modelling again as there was NO WAY anybody was going to see me wearing it. 

I think he does Whistler's Mother rather well.

A bit of family history 

Because of this cold, I haven't been able smell or taste a thing for several days.  Food tastes of nothing, flowers have no scent, and I sprayed deodorant twice yesterday cos I couldn't tell whether I'd already done it. 

It's reminded me a lot of Alan's dad...

He was shot and captured during the Second World War and ended up in a POW camp near Dresden, where he witnessed the bombing of the city by the Allies. Afterwards, the POWs spent weeks digging people out of the ruins.  It was a terrible job and, after a time, his brain just switched off the sense of smell and taste in order to cope.  It never switched on again for the rest of his life.  I remember him saying that food had lost all its pleasure and the scents he'd loved were all gone.

Not a big thing in the light of the whole event, but life-affecting nonetheless

Dresden after the bombing

Looking forward to feeling better soon. 

Having a curry tonight - maybe that'll clear the tubes...