Two holidays in a cabin

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A couple of weeks ago we went on holiday to Croyde, where we stayed in a wood cabin. The four days were filled with books, wine, good food, a hot tub, surfing (C), ice cream and long walks. In this same slideshow, you can see the market – where we were next to a lady weaving, with her little rescue dog by her side

Today is the first day that I have felt properly real again. I’ve spent the last week imprisoned in some sort of cold/flu bubble, watching from inside a world filled with bins full of kleenex tissues, receipts from Boots and the scent of menthol fiery strength sweets. It was all fugs of orange blankets, with an outer rim of mean blue. Being new, I could only soldier on, and soldier on, I did. Now Charlie has caught the bug and is proving to be a coughing radiator. Meanwhile, Francois has been told he is stressed. Since the ginger came in and attacked him last October, he’s not slept on the bed, hung out in the flat, or even rough-house played with Charlie. We took him to the vet after I picked him up to feel little shudders throughout his body. I feared the kidneys, but the kindly vet told us, he is just a very stressed kitty. He is on special medicine. I think we may need to move. But Charlie says we shouldn’t move because of our cat. But our flat isn’t our flat without our cat.

Apart from this, I can see I have hardly written a word in the last week or so. I could barely eat a mini egg. However, as I said, I had to soldier on – and so – last week I finished off Bath In Fashion and went to a talk by Julian Roberts , I also went to Aerobics full of fever – regret- and worked in work. Surrounded by everything that might help me. I drank lots of coffee in an attempt to anaesthetise my throat and had delusions I was a Mad Men receptionist, on the outside of the high rise, banging on the window, coughing. Throughout, I was told by Charlie he was getting sick, on the cusp etc.

Ignored it all. Holiday was coming.

Charlie and I spent the first evening and subsequent two days of the mini holiday doing ‘lovely’ things i.e. a meal in a nice restaurant, planting seeds, seeing friends, a Lionheart Market stall on the Christmas Steps, in Bristol. The latter proved very sweet, but my fever raged and I found myself giving away my chocolate nests as soon as someone bought out their money to pay. That is, to all but a few ladies at the start. They reminded me of older women in the 50s, covered in floral and compact like a bulb. A delight it all was really though. Then yesterday, it was all we could do to watch Hugo, go for a short walk, read and cook a roast. Isn’t it great though? When you just CAN do these nothing days. In nothing there is something. Here, there was health and wellbeing in our nothing. Love nothing. Time, tick tock with Charlie. Being sick, plates on the floor, lucozade in our glasses. Our eyes flashing with the sound of Francois’ howling meow as he walks through the catflap.

Luckily, I am better now and Charlie is getting bananas chopped up on peanut butter on toast.

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