...how we went from 484 to 445 to 486. Rest assured, 486 is on track. I think. Or at least we're gonna call it "Day 486," and just leave it at that.
Whatta couple of days!
For Christmas the kids gave us a two-day break at a spa-resort-hotel in the Lake District. Since it had to be used on weekdays (not a problem for us OAPs - old-age pensioners) and we wanted to avoid any holiday run-ins (there was Valentine's Day, plus Mother's Day in the UK was last Sunday, and of course Easter falls at the end of this month) and it had to be used by the end of April, and we didn't want to go in January, right after Christmas and with the weather what it was, and - you get the picture.
At any rate, we picked this week, cleared the decks, and set out early Tuesday morning.
Halfway between home and the hotel is a National Trust house called Sizergh Castle that we'd never been to. I had packed a picnic lunch (sounds like a big deal, but it was a great way to use the last of the fresh food at home, things that wouldn't have kept well for a few days, such as bananas, some super-ripe pears, etc) and with our timing, we planned to tour the house ( it's called "castle" but it's actually a really big, really old house), get some coffee from their coffee shop, and have our lunch.
The best laid plans...
The house opens at 1, but they have a couple of "preview" tours they do at 12 and 12:30. Since they had two places left on the noon tour, we grabbed them, figuring we'd eat after, then maybe go back through the house to spend more time on things that caught our attention.
We start in the entryway. The guide talked a little about the family, their history, and some of the items - paintings, sculpture, a tapestry, and so on - on display. Up the stairs, into the first room (which frankly I don't remember now) and the guide begins to speak - I don't see Himself. Very unusual, that. He's just about 6'4", and generally towers over most people.
Then I spot him sitting in a "guest chair" (maintained for the elderly, infirm, those unsteady on their feet, whatever) on the fringe of the room.
I went over to him and murmured, "You okay?" "No." Uh-oh.
There was another National Trust employee along on the tour, and as the guide led the group to the next room, this man asked what was wrong.
Himself had gone an ashen gray color - I honestly wondered if he was going to faint - when he said "I'm going to be sick, can you get me a basin?"
The aide rang his emergency buzzer, and two staff people came on the run. One went charging off for a basin, but before she got back, it was too late. Himself was mortified, but I was really scared he was on the verge of a heart-attack or something.
He began to feel a little better, and we wondered if something he'd eaten for breakfast had perhaps been tainted, causing mild food poisoning. His color returned, he assured everyone he was feeling much better, apologized profusely for the mess and bother (they were so kind about it, and genuinely concerned for him). We stopped in the café where he had two plain biscuits and a large glass of water.
We decided to head on up the road and get to the hotel, so he could relax.
I think we only had to stop twice for him to get out of the car and (literally) toss his cookies.
At the hotel, we checked in, he was violently ill, and only began to recover a bit by this morning, eating a light breakfast. I was worried more about dehydration than anything else.
Early this evening, I forced him (men! sexist remark, I know, but it seems to me men are so much more stubborn about seeing a doctor) to go to the GP, who has office hours on Thursday nights.
Probably a mild flu, perhaps blunted a bit thanks to the flu-shot he had last fall. He's on his way to recovery, though she told him he can expect the usual post-flu symptoms for a week or two - general weakness, perhaps a little queasiness, that kind of thing.
He's busy apologizing to me left and right, for "spoiling our little holiday." I'm tempted to milk it for awhile, but between you and me? I'm just so glad he's better, and it seems to have been a short-lived illness, and most of all, that we're back home so he can recover comfortably.
Now you know where I've been the last three days, why I had a crap connection, and how come I didn't have much chance to blog anything, let alone something fun and chatty. Relief, gratitude, and appreciation are the order of the day, but hopefully everything'll be back to normal by tomorrow.
Goodnight, Sparklers, wherever you are!