Sick Again (another Led Zep title for the uninitiated)

Hubster had been sick with the "Hucghhhhhk" (so named by comedian Billy Crystal), which is what we call the sore throat and cough virus that has been making the rounds here. He even stayed home from work for a whole day, which is almost unheard of. I warned TeenE that she had better get a flu shot well before the production week of the play, which she did. We found out a week later that the particlar germ involved in producing the "Hucghhhhhhk" was NOT, in fact, covered by this year's influenza vaccine, or last year's, even. On that Friday, there was no school due to a teacher's conference day. I went for my second-ever shift as a volunteer at the local hospice. When I left the flat at 10:30 am she had not yet been seen. When I arrived home at 1:45 pm there was no sign of life, so I knocked on her door. No answer, or was that a faint moan? I peeked in, and all I could see was a lump under the duvet. Dr. Mom was in the house. I brought tea. She had already taken Ibuprofen.

Sadly, the timing of the arrival of the "Hucghhhhhk" coincided with some important social plans TeenE had made. These plans had to be cancelled. She rallied miraculously on Saturday, however, just in time to sing at the concert the school was giving for area OAP's (Old Age Pensioners). Her miraculous healing also allowed her to attend a birthday party. I walked her and her friend TeenH up Finchley road about 1/4 mile in the pouring rain. "Do you HAVE to come? We know the way!" was the hue and cry that night. Yes, I did, I insisted. My job was to make sure that there was an adult home. I was assuaged when the Dad opened the door, and I made my way back to the flat in an extremely soggy condition.

On Sunday I was sorry. I now had the "Hucghhhhhk", despite having gone for my own flu shot the previous Wednesday. I slept until 2 pm. I realized that I was not going to be able to attend TeenE's choral concert that her school was presenting as a benefit for the soup kitchen affiliated with the American Church in London. And TeenE had a solo, too. I spent a very, very sorry afternoon and evening on the sofa, too tired to blog or even knit. Hubster reported that the concert was wonderful and that TeenE did a marvelous job with her solo. They were driven home by MomT from across the street. I think their trip was something like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. "Red Light!" Hubster is reported to have shouted at least once. I saw MomT a few days later and she asked if Hubster had told me about their ride home.

I was up and about again by Tuesday, rallying just in time for the festive Christmas Luncheon at the Landmark Hotel with 100 other members of the St. John's Wood Women's Club. The Landmark is a Victorian-era behemoth with high, conservatory-style glass ceiling in the heart of the Paddington neighborhood. The champagne reception started at 11:30, followed by a three-course lunch with wine. That crew sure likes to eat and drink. As long as they keep offering the walks, we'll be OK. I am happy to report that more than one scale (which may or may not be in need of recalibration) shows a net weight loss of ONE whole kilogram, (equal to 2.2 lbs.), several pairs of trousers no longer need to be unfastened to effect their removal. Hips and thighs have given way to massive quads and toned calves, or so I like to think. Perhaps some shopping will be in my future when we are in the US for Christmas. Door prizes were given at the lunch, and my name was called. I had to choose from two wrapped packages on my table. One was shaped exactly like a gift box for a bottle of wine, while the other was smaller and flatter. I went for the smaller one, hoping for chocolates. Instead, I was delighted to find a small hand-bound leather notebook, just the right size for jotting down blog-related notes. A perfect note on which to end a delightful afternoon. I tottered up the road and got onto the bus, arriving at A Flat on Abbey Road in under fifteen minutes.