Breathe

Have finally fallen ill. Yesterday, after an exciting overnight snowfall, and whilst it was still snowing, I managed to help Alex take the children to school (she-does-everything-and-I-tag-along sort of help) and then more or less collapsed, slept all afternoon, felt like crap and then collapsed again on the sofa. I was supposed to go up to London to meet my sister, but when I rang her to tell her that any movement was impossible, it seemed as though she was in the same boat, croaking, creaking and generally crook.

BBC i-player rocks. Sadly, we can't access it in Canada, so whilst I'm here, I can watch all kinds of great stuff, Miranda, Gavin and Stacey, Life, but in Canada, where BBC Canada can be quite tardy and rather random about these things, they won't let me view them. And frankly, I'd be happy to pay the BBC money to be able to do so. Why don't they offer poor ex-pats this service?

Then there's the question of heating. Why does the same room temperature, heated via radiators, feel so much more comfortable than when heated by forced air? I can't even begin to see the logic in it, and yet......

This morning, I could happily have stayed in bed for an extra, ooh, two days to be honest, but Alex brought me coffee, prodded me back to life and got me out shopping. By the end of it I felt like death (barely) warmed up, and yet after another rest, I was able to get going again, and do feel a great deal better now.
At least, I was able to drink alcohol again, which is the same thing really.