I confess that it is all my fault. I shared my horrid cold with my husband. In my defense someone gave it to me, for the day after Christmas and gathering with our families, the tell-tale tickling and urge to clear my throat began the next night. I remembering wanting to sing (I was outside guarding the moving van) when I pondered this idea. I told myself I’d better not strain the vocal chords (I am a vocalist for those of you who are unacquainted with me and my past). Guarding the U-Haul van you might ask? We did finish moving, back in September, but those storage bins we rented for five months, needed to be emptied since we had unpacked the original-move belongings. We had made a quick run on the christmas tree stand and ornaments ten days before. So this was the final push to shove these things (art easels, brushes, paints) and bulky objects into our new place. I digress. Even though earlier that day it was unseasonably warm, at this juncture, it was bone-chilling cold. Cold temperatures isn’t good for vocal chords and I refrained from singing any refrain. The next day there was that hard, body-shaking sneeze. I knew I was in for it.
Joe had been experiencing a dry cough for weeks and said it was nothing whenever I asked him how he was feeling. Guys are like this. He makes me go to the doctor whenever the tiniest thing happens but he emphatically tells me that he doesn’t need to go. I shrug my shoulders. He is nine months my senior so I give him respect. I do not insist. As of Friday afternoon he sounded just as sick as I was. Now he is listening to me and … snatching my medicine. Hopefully it’ll go away soon, or I’m flying us to the south just like the birds do.
Even though my neighbors (who have been promised some of my baked goods) have naturally, had to wait, I can cook for the two of us. I couldn’t make him any more infected if I tried. We nurse our colds but we don’t have to just drink soup.
I prepared an Onion, Potato Gruyere Gallette and some more Cinnamon Coffee Cake (sans the pecans), freshly tossed salad and veggie patties. Since I feed him with homemade goodness, I stopped being guilty for making him feel yucky.