Honey and lemon time

I seem to have a bit of an incipient cold at the moment.  It’s been hovering around for the best part of a week and so far hasn’t been any worse than a slightly blocked or slightly runny nose and a bit of a cough, so I’m hoping it will go away soon without getting any worse first.  Fortunately it didn’t severely impede my playing at yesterday’s brass band competition (we came 5th out of 9 in our section and were quite pleased with our performance, thanks for asking).

As a precaution, I’ve been making and drinking a few batches of my DIY honey and lemon mixture (essentially, half a lemon, a spoonful of honey and a bit of chopped ginger lobbed together in a saucepan with a pint or so of water and boiled/simmered for a few minutes) to soothe my throat and make me feel like I’m doing something pro-active against the cold, in the hope that I can persuade it not to get properly underway.

This also gives me an opportunity to dig out a poem I wrote about 7 years ago on another occasion when I had a cold, in November 2006.  That one was a lot worse than the one I’ve currently got, and I had lost my voice.   I’m fairly sure (although I can’t remember for certain) that I didn’t have the second half of the poem in mind when I wrote the first half.

Incidentally, if you’re of a sensitive disposition and are currently eating something you may want to finish your food and take a break before you read on (especially lines 3 and 4).

I have a cold.
I’m feeling pretty bad.
I feel like I’m slowly drowning
in a sea of my own snot and spit.
And if that sounds horrid, it is.
The back of my throat feels under attack
from a horde of tiny, malicious imps.
Arms and legs and head all ache.
Constant coughing gets me down.
Nostrils feel raw –
are those tissues or sandpaper?
To cap it all, I’ve lost my voice.
I can’t speak above a whisper
and, worse, I can’t sing.
Frustration, thy name is silence!

But wait a moment, whining one!
What gives you the right to moan?

Have you spent your whole life unable to see or to hear?
Are you missing your legs, never to walk again?
Is your voice gone for good, never to sing or talk again?
Does your whole family spend their life
labouring to provide food for the table?
Are you too stupid to see what I mean?

I have a cold.
Big deal.

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