Three Days Coming, Three Days Here, Three Days Going

 

So, whether the winter doldrums or a bad cough over a beer at O’Toole’s or just hot and cold days; I got the sniffles.

Before you start searching the web for possible solutions or old family remedies, I’m using my ‘3 Day Rule’. I believe I’m on the downside of the bell curve, but it is just annoying to continuously snuffle and sniffle and blow only to refill with the river of mucus.

No headaches. Minor sore throat. Some tummy rumble from all the pills and potions trying to defeat common cold.

The good side is I’ve lost my appetite so everything I see at the Tummy Temple has no appeal. Chicken noodle soup and ginger ale and crackers are the recipe for wellness. Even alcohol doesn’t seem to wash away the boogers. This too will pass.

A nice warm day on the porch in the sun will bake out the rest of this stuffy head.

Until then, excuse this whining. I’m getting enough rest (sleep?) but waking up every hour sweating or shivering with cement dreams of old buildings is just another reason of not playing ‘Let’s Spend the Night Together’.

Meanwhile, the rumors and gossip of ‘covid’ or ‘flu’ or ‘respiratory syncytial’ or ‘Ping-Pong disease’ or just ole man rotting away, I’ll suffer few a few more days of coughing, blowing, sniffling with nothing worse than a running nose.

Just want to tell all the avid readers, this hasn’t met the obit pages yet. Tomorrow the sun will shine and the radio will announce the latest disaster and death toll and political blunder that ponders how this country continues on cruise control? If no one comes by tonight and knocks on the door or the sirens stop here, I’ll get to my routine, saddle up my pony, mail my bills in the big blue box and hopefully return home whizzing and puffing to enjoy the antics of the spring time and maybe even do a load of clothing. Oh, and wash the dishes. Maybe my memory is slipping?