It didn't quite go according to plan . . .
Christmas, that is. You see, The G's return to health proved to be rather shortlived.
Having rallied on Christmas Eve, she just about managed to tear open her presents before her symptoms returned. She has spent much of the time since then hot and groaning.
Christmas cheer and Calpol have eased her suffering a little, but even their remarkable powers are limited. That Dr Z has also been struggling hasn't helped. Not that it has been a complete disaster . . .
The B seems to have had fun - despite everyone else's ailments - and the bikes have proved popular. Yesterday, The G having decided to take herself to bed for the afternoon, The B and I took a long ride together along the sea front. Having eaten more than expected - I didn't like to see The G's share of the festive food go to waste - I needed the exercise.
There are signs this morning that improvements are being made and that people are starting to feel a little better at long last. I hope that this time it's a genuine recovery, as it's still not too late to salvage something from this Christmas . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment