Lost Christmas

I would say that it hit me, like a bolt out of the blue, on Saturday afternoon, after an early shopping trip to the dreaded Tesco and following a nice lunch. I have only vague memories of Sunday, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day and yesterday as I spent most of the days in bed, unable to read, visions flashing by on the small upstairs TV screen, as I lay in some sort of Actifed induced haze, coughing - constantly coughing, until my throat and stomach and chest hurt. I coughed so much one night I pulled several stomach muscles and had to use the Deep Heat spray as well. I never did get round to putting back the curtains I'd taken down to launder; we never managed to cook the 'Chestnut and Red Wine Pate en Croute' ready for Christmas Day and I finally got round to washing the kitchen and conservatory floor this morning - you will have gathered from this that those were the last preparations I had to do for Christmas and that both Paul and I had been floored by the dreaded flu virus. Meanwhile, the fridge is still full of food I can't eat. Paul seems to be ok on the eating front but at the moment I can't bare the taste of coffee, which is unlike me as I love coffee, the idea of toast turns my stomach and I can't contemplate eating any of the plum pudding, cake or cookies we made. For three days I think I existed on grapes, little oranges and yoghurt.

As I lay in bed I vaguely remember watching some television. Carols from Kings on Christmas Eve for a start. I also remember dozing, on and off, through something set in an hotel where people fell through ice on a pond and someone's ashes were used to stuff the turkey - at this point I switched off - did I actually dream that? When you are laying in bed with nothing to do you can be tempted to watch some strange programmes and I was so mad at myself for giving up on 'The Old Curiosity Shop' but I did at one point feel really ill and dizzy during it so am hoping it will be repeated - it looked good. High points? The Sittaford Mystery - a gloriously atmospheric 'Marple' and amusingly yet another strange hotel. Christmas Cooks during which poor Oz Clarke seemed to be under the influence or fighting off flu, or something. Jamie's Christmas at Home I howled as he giggled at his black pepper trick on Genaro - see I told you I was easily amused. Christmas Corrie - the 'olds' continue to delight, their observational, dry repartee worthy of Bennett or Wood - well done the script writers and well done the actors. Especially Blanche - she is priceless. I loved the Christmas dinner scenes in Roy's Rolls the comic timing of Roy's missing of Hayley's calls reminded me of the old Whitehall Farces. I really like Becky and her scenes with Blanche are great - keep them working together please! Another character who has great comic timing is Clare, not tested so much this year, but I've never forgotten her scene from last Christmas day whilst outside her front door the Platt family are having one of their usual angst ridden fall outs over David, spilling out onto the street in their frustration, she opened her door, deposited her black bag in her wheelie bin, turned to the rabble, smiled and uttered the immortal line 'Having a Nice One?' and disappeared back inside again.

Well, I can't say we've had a nice one, I just hope everyone else has. I'm off now - still a bit woozy and coughing as well as ever. I have books and magazines to read, people to phone and cats to cuddle - for some reason they don't like coughing. I may be back to normal come New Year.