Creature Comforts

......................................................... My Mommy

I don't feel so very good (whine). The stuff that started in my ears on Monday has taken up residence in my lungs. (Sniffle, hack-cough.) I want my Mommy.
...
I will visit my doctor tomorrow morning or afternoon, whenever she can see me. I have a feeling she's going to be very busy, because there are a lot of "I don't feel wells" going around. Until then, I am going to indulge in some creature comforts.

First thing I did this morning was turn the thermostat up from a balmy 61 degrees F. to a roasting 67 degrees. The oil man makes another delivery in the morning, and there was enough oil in the tank to make it for a couple more days, so I indulged in some heat. (I still want my Mommy.)

Then I brought out my favorite teapot, my Brown Betty, and brewed several pots of tea - green and red/black. This is an old Betty, heavy clay twice baked, made with a clay that has a lot of iron in it. Not one of those once fired, terra cotta jobs the American market has forced upon us when the return to tea rooms became a craze about twenty years ago. I have dropped my Betty twice and nary a nick was made in it. I love this little pot. (But it isn't my Mommy.)

Next, I found my flannel jammies, two soft sweatshirts, my extra long socks (dancer's leg warmers, actually), all the blankies I have for my bed, and my Bitty Bear. Bitty Bear had a voice box inside that growled in response to your voice. I thought she was too cute, but Grandson was scared to death of Bitty. He wouldn't let us put the toy anywhere near him until the voice box was removed. If I can find it, I'm going to put fresh batteries in her voice box and Bitty and I will commune until one of us falls asleep. (Not quite my Mommy, but I can cuddle with it and pretend that it is Mommy.)

Finally, before I go to bed tonight, I'll turn the heat back down (no sense being a glutton), after I put some stewing beef in the slow-cooker so I can have beef veggie soup tomorrow.

On my way to bed, I'll grab the one photo I have of Mama, when she was about 20 or 22, and take it up to my room. It isn't Mommy either, but it's the best I can do.

Oh, yeah and I'm going to eat that whole chocolate bar, all by myself...but don't tell my Mommy!

...

In the clear light of morning, this post is such a whine. What I was trying to say is that sometimes, when we feel really crappy, our minds harken back to when we were wee things and were taken care of by our mothers - or someone else who loved us. I was feeling nostalgic...and just a bit sorry for myself. My apologies.

...

I have a good doctor. She's going to let me treat my bronchitis and pneumonia at home, since I cannot pay a hospital bill right now. Sure wish the President had pushed Congress harder for healthcare reform.

...

Headed for bed. I'll see you folks in a few days.