For four days now I have been depleted and undermined by a cold.
It was a joyful weekend, for others. I struggled through it.
A streaming nose, a throat made of cut glass and a chest packed with stuff I couldn’t get rid of…
I hope my misery didn’t spoil anyone’s day.
The Christening of Faye,
Monks of Glenstal celebrating mass
with incense and operatic drama
followed by cups of tea and cream cakes,
The Mother’s 80th birthday photograph,
surrounded by about 30 family in Limerick,
a visit to Lahinch,
back to Limerick,
saying goodbye to the Americans (sister and family who live there)
returning to Cork.
[This is not meant to be a poem.]
I’m still miserable, delighted that I don’t have to go out to work.