Today was a total wipeout. A vile, vile, vile headache took me off my feet. I got up and showered, looked at my cereal bowl, threw up, went back to bed. The next thing I knew was that it was 4:30pm. I took some painkillers and came round slowly, with the help of a light tea provided by Mr L, and finally got myself vertical at half past six.

Of course, I didn’t know what to do with myself – I couldn’t read, or use the computer, or knit. So I started a  new spinning project, found that I couldn’t really get into it and was spinning rubbish instead of yarn. I decided to try the knitting then, being very peeved that I had been unable to finish the Hamsa scarf today as planned. I’ve managed half a repeat, but will have to put it down again now as my head is cranking up again. So, that’s nine repeats done, as per the pattern, and it is so tempting to call it done under the circumstances. But this yarn does shrink, and so I will be sensible and add the tenth repeat. It just isn’t going to be done today.

Now I don’t know what to do with myself…

Mr L has very kindly suggested that I stay home tomorrow. I still live in hope of finding the headache gone in the morning, but past history does not suggest much chance of that. I feel bad about it, he’ll have a long day to fill with nothing much to do and will have to carry what little shopping he can do on his own. I do hope that the car passes its test, though this is v unlikely. The old girl is getting a bit long in the tooth – just at that age where everything sags and wrinkles. Poor old bag – old enough to decay but not old enough to be interesting. Ah well, it happens to us all.

I’ve promised my dear bloke a sweater out of the current spinning. It must have been guilt that did it. Oh, my. What have I done? I shall be at it until next Christmas! I wonder if he can be persuaded to diet?