Feeling Better

This is the first day that I can honestly say that I am feeling better. I had some sort of virus over a week ago and it left me feeling totally washed out, Sam had it too and he also struggled to shake it off.

We are planning a ride on a train tomorrow, Robbie insists that it has to be an HST so it will be an uncomfortable journey for me with my legs not reaching the floor when sitting down. We are not sure where we are going yet, it depends on the weather.

I am fairly used to Robbie managing to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, but this was a bit extreme even for him. During a 'close' moment he decided to recall the names of all the characters from Crossroads. With Robbie I know that it is pointless to ask why, gut I must be really boring if his mind strays to subjects such as Crossroads.

The Vanishing Trick

I wasn't too happy with Robbie on Sunday night. He was telling me all weekend that he was looking forward to getting home, and he promised me lots of attention. He spent the evening listening to train noises on YouTube, then when I told him that I was going to bed he said he would be there in a minute. He even came up to bring me a drink and to tell me that he just had to lock the front door and put the dog out before coming to bed, then he vanished. I waited and waited, but after an hour I gave up and went to sleep. He finally arrived over an hour and a half late and he got a very short answer when he tried to cuddle up to me. I didn't get a chance to discuss his vanishing act with him until this morning, We went through the usual ritual, first he denied it, then he said he was mistaken about the time, then finally he admitted it. He was doing something that he has to do in private, he doesn't like talking to me about it, but apparently it really did take him an hour and a half - he was packing his bag for work!!

Robbie was unwell this morning, he had 'the trots' and being Robbie I was treated to a detailed account of his troubles. He got ready for work as usual, but then he came into the lounge and announced that he felt dreadful and he had a really bad sore throat. I suggested that going to work wasn't the wisest move, even if it wasn't swine flu, he wouldn't be popular if he passed on his troubles to everyone else in the office. In the end he decided to work from home today. To be honest I am a bit worried about Swine Flu, I have been in contact with it, but I hope that Robbie just has a nice ordinary bug. I was OK this morning, but then I developed similar symptoms and I had to come home from work feeling very unwell.

Train to the North and Back Again

I have got another horrible cold and my breathing really hurts. On Saturday morning I woke up feeling sorry for myself after a very bad night. Robbie was away 'plating trains' so I rang him to remind him that I want to be cremated not buried! The they had made a very early start and rail tour was well under way heading toward Blackpool, Robbie was concerned that I felt rotten and he offered to come home. I gratefully accepted his offer and he was left stuttering and spluttering trying to think of a convincing reason why he couldn't come home. I didn't really expect him to come home, but I couldn't resist making him squirm. I dosed myself up and got on with my jobs which included taking Sam to his friend's party and doing some food shopping. The party was at a go carting circuit which must be run by the secret services because it is so badly signposted that we couldn't find it and everybody was half an hour late.

I spoke to Robbie later on Saturday evening and he assured me that he would get home as quickly as he could in the morning because he was worried about me. Sunday morning dawned and by 10am I still had not heard from him so I rang him, he said he had just woken up and he was sitting up in bed enjoying a cup of coffee. He told me that he would be on his way home after breakfast. By 3pm I was starting to wonder when he would be back, I rang again and he said he had just finished his breakfast and was having a coffee – he hadn't even started his journey! He finally got home at about 7pm and he was still talking about his wonderful breakfast – what is it about Robbie that makes everyone want to feed him? On the way back from the station we needed to stop for fuel, it had been raining and when stopped the car the wipers were not straight, Robbie protested loudly, he couldn't possibly refuel a car with wonky wipers! He sat there arms folded demanding that I should straighten the wipers, I didn't and he muttered and moaned all through the refuling and payment process.

Do You Think They Make Straight Jackets for Cats?

Do you think they make straight jackets for cats? After last night they will be lucky if they survive for much longer. I have a really bad cold and I have been feeling like 'death warmed up' so I was glad to finally get to bed on Monday evening. I was so cold, I just couldn't get warm and I struggled to fall asleep. I awoke to feeling cold and confused and aching all over. There was a lead weight where my legs should have been and for a split second I thought I was dying from the feet up but when my brain woke up I realised that George the cat had sneaked upstairs and parked himself on my legs! He was despatched in the direction of his own bed and having regained the use of my legs I snuggled back into bed in search of sleep. I dreamed about rats (I don't know why) then suddenly there was a thump on the bed and I was jolted awake. It wasn't a huge rat with evil intent, it was Oreo was using the bed as a trampoline! By this time I was too shattered to do more than threaten him with extinction, but being male he is a slow learner and he and Dave continued with their boisterous game of tag for what seemed like an eternity in the end I dragged myself out of bed, captured the prisoners and left them downstairs feeling very sorry for themselves. By the time I had settled back to sleep again it was time to get up!

The 'Dying Fly' 22.03.07

I can't tell you how Robbie is getting on in Ireland as apparently they don't have telephones! Sam has been unwell all week with a very sore throat and a constant headache, he had a day off school on Tuesday and he was very reluctant to go back yesterday, even the snow this morning hasn't provoked any enthusiasm from him. I am sure he is ill, but the problem is that it is impossible to tell how ill. He is an expert at the 'dying fly' routine and we are treated to the same academy award winning performance for 'finger ache' as for something serious. So I have spent this week worried about making the wrong decision and being told that I am a terrible uncaring mum. Why is life never simple?