Monday, September 10, 2012

I've been laid low with bronchitis.
I've re-read The Hobbit.

I am now re-reading Bill Bryson's
wonderful book

My poor heavy head
is full of fantasy 

and wonder
regardless of weepy eyes and constant coughing
and an ever growing pile of tissues.

Outside the blackbirds and thrushes are singing
their fantastical spring songs
and I can't wait
to feel as energized as they sound.

Last night it thundered and flashed sheet lightning
and hailstones drummed on the tin awning on my bedroom deck.

The fickleness of Spring.
Warm one minute, cold the next
and pesky bugs are having a ball.

Bill Bryson
reminds me to not despair.
but instead to
 feel the wonder of being here.

Te hei mauri ora!
I sneeze... therefore I am alive!
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  1. Joan, As always, your doodlings are absolutely wonderful. I love the one of the city with people beneath. It's a magical world you see and create. I hope that same magical world delivers you to perfect health today. Best thoughts to you!

  2. I have a cold but sometimes I don't think that I am alive, when I sneeze. I think it could be my last breath. Get better soon.

  3. Always such lovely doodlings from you, Joan, I love those houses.

    Grethe ´)

  4. Oh Joan, commiserations and I wish you a speedy recovery. Meanwhile, your doodles are delightful. I love the colours. It's good to have absorbing books to read when sick. I usually get lost in Jane Austen.
    PS I heard your email read out on the radio - about the crossword clue - stymied - that coincided with the announcer using the same word. I smiled, a lot.