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