ailbhe: (Default)
[personal profile] ailbhe
Lurged beyond lurgest lurg.

My nose, as Calvin might say, is just stuffed. My head is woolly and my ears are ringing; sounds come in distantly. I can't smell even the most noxious of infant odours. Things taste funny. And when I went to the pharmacist for advice he said to go to the doctor and get an antibiotic.

Nooooo.

For a start, I've almost beaten this thing; the tonsils are settled down, the chest is almost clear, it's just the nose. For another, NO CANDIDAZ DO NOT WANT.

Emer and Linnea are wandering merrily on their immunised breastfed baby ways. Linnea has been a bit "UR GERMS LET ME LOOK AT THEM" but is beginning to realise that Charlie and Lola's version of germs isn't really true.

Emer says Mum and Bye properly now. Is so cute am ded.

Linnea doesn't like blueberry pancakes. They have STUFF in them icky ewwww.

I have chicken stock prepped and leeks bought.

But my food source may vanish! The True Food Co-op desperately need more customers or they may go out of business. Since a huge Tesco has just opened around the corner this seems increasingly likely to me. I hate Tesco. I haven't read that book, Tescopoly, but I hate them anyway. NO NO TREEZ, they say, TREEZ AN HOSPITTLE BAAAAD. HAVE SHOPS YUM NAO. WAT IS PLANNING PERMISSION?

I haven't seen my cats for hours.
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