Finally Getting Better (with no bacon)
After perhaps fourteen days, a thousand cups of tea, countless cups of boiling water laced with paracetamol, boxes of tissues, an entire pot of vicks, and the removal of several gallons of snot, my body finally seems to be winning it's battle with the nefarious cold virus that took hold the week before last.
Of course the world doesn't stand still. In about half an hour I'm heading to rugby with my middle daughter – primarily to film her. She's doing PE as an examination subject at school, and requires demonstrable evidence of “skills” – which roughly translates to one or other of us losing a couple of hours every weekend standing in the cold, holding a camera in the blind hope that she'll demonstrate one or more of the required skills.
I was first up this morning. After having a shower and a shave, I remembered a packet of bacon hiding in the back of the fridge. A few minutes later I was standing in the kitchen with a morning radio station, a cup of coffee, and the smell of bacon pouring from the grill. I buttered several slices of bread, and stood in anticipation – listening to the radio, and the gentle crackle of wonderful things cooking.
It came as no surprise that the smell of bacon caused all of our children to raise from their slumber. One by one they appeared in the kitchen, and I made them each bacon sandwiches – realising along the way that there would be none left for me. I ended up filling my already buttered bread with leftovers from the fridge.
We won't talk about Miss 19 appearing in her pajamas, grinning at the smell of bacon, and then having an instant and furious meltdown when I suggested that she could make her own. I haven't seen or talked to her since, so that's going to be fun later. We're supposed to be going running this evening (you know, in-between filming rugby, washing up dinner things, washing clothes, and all the other bullshit chores).
In other, completely unrelated news, I finally got a chance to play around with the computer my Dad gave me yesterday. I was supposed to be standing in the rain at Wembley Stadium watching England ladies football team get beaten by Germany – but figured the almost sub-zero temperatures and driving rain would probably finish me off. So I stayed at home – and tried to learn how to fly a pretend 737. Badly.
Anyway.
I wonder if the rugby club will be serving bacon sandwiches later ?