In Bed. With Cold.

This is how the universe works: I said out loud, "I haven't had a cold in 2 years", and BINGO, within 7 hours and 23 minutes, my nose is stuffed, my throat is sore and my head feels as big as a watermelon and about as useful. So instead of wrapping gifts, sewing and Christmas-crafting like I intended, I'm dragging around with Tattered Quilt, leaving a trail of used tissues and half-full mugs of tea in my wake.

I don't drink just any tea; it has be this tea:

Secret Recipe Tea

Put an inch of fresh ginger root into a mug along w/a hunk of lemon, a spoonful of honey, a dropperful of Avena Botanicals Echinacea and a pinch of cayenne pepper. Pour boiling water over all and steep for at least 5 minutes. Drink as hot as you can stand it and repeat several times throughout the day.

This will knock the virus right out of your system and will save you from having to change out of your flannel pjs, drive into town and have the doctor tell you, "You have a cold."

As is my habit when I've fallen ill, I follow the sun from room to room like an old cat, curling up in the light and warmth wherever I find it.  Moving from the bedroom to the office day-bed, to the red cushy sofa, to the sun porch, I shuffle pathetically along with my box of tissues and Secret  Recipe Tea, my library book, and cherry cough drops.

I know exactly where this cold came from: Little Lu. She complained of a sore throat this past weekend when she was here, but I wouldn't change a thing. Spending time with her was totally Worth It. Sharing unwelcome germs is one of the hazards of kissing grandchildren, and I'm not going to stop doing that.

I do get annoyed when I'm not feeling up to par, though. Actually, I get good and mad, which I believe shortens the duration of what ails me. I play the part of the victim for only so long then pull myself up by my bootstraps, take a hot shower and pretend to feel better, even when I really don't. As I put on my mascara and blow-dry my hair, I look into the mirror and say rather forcefully, "Cold, you are NOT going to get the best of me, damn it!"

But I'm not ready to do that just yet. I'll just rest here for now and decide whether I want to finish reading my book or watch more episodes of "Ally McBeal" on Netflix.

Maybe I'll yell at my cold tomorrow.