Sickness

It is yet another 12 days between posts, but the title should give you a hint as to why. But before that let's see what I got up to before I retired to my bed.

Twilight shot of the Farmhoue and the Bunkhouse

After I posted last time (and strictly speaking this should have been in the last post), Roy and I went to dinner at our good friends' Feri and Anna's house. They are the owners of the Mill Court complex and it is at least 3 years since we have seen them socially outside of the restaurant. It was a lovely evening where we were fed some incredibly delicious Asian fusion food and discussed the problems of the village, the country and the world between us. I really think we should have closer association with these two in many aspects and that we should never leave it this long between dinners. Consequently, they are due to come over to us next time for a curry.

On Wednesday I left Roy in Bér again and travelled by bus into town for a Mitsuko Uchida concert in the Music Academy. She was playing Schubert and she was magnificent, as usual. She is now getting quite elderly and very frail looking, but she is nothing of the kind. The power, the sensitivity and brilliance that she brings to all her performances didn't fail to fascinate again.

Mitsuko Uchida

On Thursday I travelled back home in the afternoon as God knows why but the bus company discontinued my favourite bus from Aszód to Bér, or to be correct it now leaves a full 35 minutes earlier then before and therefore no connection is available to it. On Monday I went to Hatvan and used the bus from there, but it was freezing cold and very uncomfortable, so I decided to use the direct one in the afternoon on Thursday, so at least I could have a lie-in and have heating in the bus. It was OK, but I think it was unwise to travel in the middle of a flu epidemic twice within 4 days on public transport where all and sundry cough and splutter all over you.

I suppose you can see where I am going with this. We came in on Friday by car and while I was feeling quite OK when I got in the car in Bér, by the time I got out of it in town I felt dreadful.  The dreaded Aussie flu hit me and I have been practically in bed ever since.

H3N2 aka Aussie flu

I suppose I shouldn't whinge, but it is precisely because of my busy schedule, that many reckon is a bit too demanding for someone in her 70th year, that I had to cancel an inordinate amount of events that were planned and am still not sure when I can get back into action.

I am usually good with pain and am not exceptionally miserable in my sickbed. Thankfully I can occupy myself with my laptop and books. However, when you see what went by the board because of this bloody lurgy, you will appreciate my frustration, still ongoing. Out went: 1 opera and 2 concert performances, 1 entire long planned day with Gyuri geocaching, another half day with Zsuzsi hiking and caching and an entire weekend celebrating my old friend Laci's 70th birthday down by the  Balaton. Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!

Snow in the courtyard

The window through which I watch the tits

Hanging on

I cancelled the latter back on Wednesday, which some thought was a bit hasty, but I must have cybillic foresight as just as I started slightly improving Roy went down with it.  Yesterday I had to go out shoppping, and while I was OK (I took my little flight bag on wheels as a shopping trolley) after about 20 minutes the sweat was pouring off me in buckets.  Obviously, post viral fatigue will be with me for a good while, but this time I have decided that I will stay in bed for as long as I can, because I remember how getting up too soon and trying to do too much too soon made me ill for months in the last few winters. I am playing to my age and infirmity and am determined to get properly well by the end of February at the latest, as that is when we are off to Hassocks to be with Elian and Xander.

Anf what's over there?

So there! Not much else had happened, other than coughing, spluttering and lying in bed in misery. Poor Roy is in the worst phase now, when the cough is both tight and flegmy, but mostly the former. That feels like somebody is choking you to death.  Once it starts loosening, he should start feeling better. I bought him some homeopathic cough medicine, I hope it'll loosen it up soon.

Back, a week and a bit ago, on last Saturday, Ros and Ian turned up.  I stayed upstairs as I didn't want to reinfect them, which is entirely possible even though they had it around Christmas, as the virus mutates all the time and you can catch it more than once. They finally brought my Barclaycard (long story, don't ask!) and the big tin of BOLT's HOT Curry Powder that got lost and replaced. That, in fact, was the case with the Barclaycard too, but finally both turned up and I was happy.

Where have all the seeds gone?

While Roy was OK, he did a lot of magical cooking, ie.: magicking lovely meals out of not much. Curry was one of them, which I think is a marvellous dish for sickness, as I frequently feel that the heat of the sauce disinfects my innards.  And, of course, I love the stuff.

More cute tits

The day before yesterday I bought some books on the net, which I asked to be delivered to Bér, but now I am worried will we be there when they arrive? You never know how long it'll be before they deliver it, and in town there is a bigger chance of it going missing, which is why I always put the Bér address on it.  Let us hope that they are a bit tardy then we might get there sometime next week.

Who's up there?

Mind you, I wouldn't be too sure as Roy is not improving at all and I always worry about him, although I felt exactly the same this time last week. We also had to shift his urinary check-up by one week, but if he is not much better than this, we might have to do the same again. That's on Tuesday, let us hop he'll cheer up a bit by then.

I'm hanging on

I must go now as my books await. My eyes were so bad last week that I could hardly read or look into the computer screen. Should post again when there will be anything to post about. In the meantime enjoy some great tits on the feeders, as reminders of a time when we were still OK.