Thursday, June 07, 2007

"I got the tuber-cu-lucas and the sinus flu"

Thanks to my non-hockey-fan readers for checking in with me, regardless of my seasonal obsession. You'll be happy to note it's all over: hockey season is finished, and since I'm not usually one to pay much atention to the game before play-offs begin, we've got nine months of hockey-free blogging to look forward to.

I have a few thoughts fizzing in my brain, waiting to escape and gas up the blog. I've been reading Cormac McCarthy's The Road, watching Children of Men, and musing about the overall shift in dystopia-think. I'll get to that in a day or two.

But first I've got to break out the ice-cubes of chicken stock and brew up some soup. Don't know why flu-season decided to strike at the beginning of June, but it did. If you want me, I'll be in bed. Bring a book you can read to me.

5 comments:

DarkoV said...

No second honeymoons planned? Like, say, in Greece? It'd be a cheap way to see Colorado, right?

dan h. said...

And to get really sick... you can watch the NBA finals.

Rest easy.

paul bowman said...

In bed w/ flu sounds like a good place for connecting w/ the dystopian mindset.

Hope you're back to 100% soon.

Cowtown Pattie said...

Hey, did you send some of those germs down south? I have had the coughing crud for about a week, though I suspect the carrier is one small rugrat grandchild who visited just five days before my chest clogged up worse than a barber's sink in Seville.

(?) Don't ask.

I got a Barnes and Noble gift card for my birthday, and one of my first purchases was "The Road." Kman grabbed it out of the box first and I graciously let him have first dibs. Now, it is waiting patiently on my bedside table. Kman said it was depressing as any McCarthy he's ever read.

I shall check back to see your interpretations...but not until I finish the book!

Chuck the chicken soup, Clyde. Try a shot of tequila with some lime and a swig of honey. Follow with a second dose right quick. After that, what cough?

Course the next morning, your tongue is wearing a moldy fur coat and your head feels like Matthew McConaghy is playing bongos on it, and lo and behold, the cough returns.

So, repeat the dosing instructions and call me...tomorrow afternoon.

Whisky Prajer said...

Pattie, I believe I'm just about ready to try your remedy, 'cos chicken soup hasn't done a thing for me. Not yet, at least.