I haven’t left my pit since yesterday. I can’t ever remember feeling this awful whilst being concious.  I drift in and out of sleep and feel so ill when I am awake.

Of course, I have my nurse on duty who wants the duvet far more than she wants to be with me.  On the left, those are my socked feet sticking out because BeAnne always puts up a good fight and there is no budging.  Not never.  I gave up long ago.

Later on in the day, BeAnne decided to sleep with her head down the bed.  Those are feets sticking out.

But she is my constant companion and it is nice that she bothers – in her own little way.

The resemblance is strking to this painting by Paul Doyle called “Spoilt”!

I tried to eat some scrambled eggs but the thought was better than the actual eating.  BeAnee was happy to wash up.

Symptoms:
Nausea was yesterday, that has gone but I have no appetite.
Unceasing and unresponsive headache on front of head, side of head and back of neck.
Photophobia – yesterday I couldn’t even turn on an ipad for the glare.
No internal thermostat – yesterday I was cold to my bones.  Today I am either too hot or too cold – there is no middle ground.
I ache all over
Endless bloody coughing.
I sleep a lot.

I can live with everything but the headaches.  They are wearing and horrid.

Sorry, I am in my pit feeling very ill.

I ache therefore I am.

So cold, coughing, headache, feeling sick, my bones ache.

This is one of Lambie’s best photos from the other day when he came in the house.

It is a lovely picture, capturing everything – Lambie’s noble profile, his Garbo look whilst incorporating a bottle of Marc Jacobs’ Daisy perfume belonging to Daisy, coincidentally.

In a moment of madness, and possibly gin, I decided to take it further.  I mocked up a lovely advertisement, even finding their same font (Engravers Gothic, now you know).

I mean what is not to love?  It is perfection.

So I emailed my creation along with a little message to Marc Jacobs’ office explaining that if they were interested in using Lambie that he was very amenable and we could arrange something.

One hour later, I received their reply.

I have to wonder if they even looked at the photo.

(I am also quite depressed that they wrote “inquiry” (in this Shire, it starts with an e), “utilize” (z seriously?) and “modeling” (two l’s please) and their inappropriate, if random, use of an exclamation mark, capital letters and paragraphs – I am seriously tempted to mark their email and send it back to them. 

But, on the plus side, they did manage to spell my name correctly which is the first hurdle most folk fall at and I am not perfect.)

Lambie and I take rejection badly.

Very badly.

Soulless bunch.

I think Spring is just around the corner.

Earlier this week, from my car, I saw this little black and white pile.  It demanded some further investigation

Once I had confirmed its identity (exactly what I had hoped it was), – an oystercatcher (Haematopus ostralegus) – I felt happy knowing winter is on its way out, albeit very slowly, and we probably still have some Arctic flurries to go.

But an oystercatcher is an oystercatcher.  The first one you see in the year is always the best one!

This morning, on my way home from Sumburgh airport (youngest off south), I drove past this amazing beach and I decided I should take some pics as the light was magical.

This is West Voe off Sumburgh Head – one of the four Shetland beaches that have won a Seaside Award from Keep Scotland Beautiful.

There was a very cold wind blowing.

The waves were huge and I felt very buffeted as I stood at the top of the sand dunes.

As you can see, it is very close to the airport!

The ruins are the prehistoric and Norse settlement, Jarslhof.

When I got home, I found the horses lying down out of the fierce wind, except for Efstur who immediately stood up when he realised I might be taking a photo.  He then decided to annoy his bestie, Hjalti.

Spring is called Voar here from Old Norse ‘var’.

Just around the corner.  I hope I am not being lulled into a false sense of security.

So I went and sat in Albie and Newt’s shed to see if they wanted to talk to me.  I haven’t done this with them before – I used to sit indoors with the other Minions but never Albie and Newt.  We were always outside.

It didn’t take long.

(I may have had carrots!)

I sat down on what-I-thought was a clean part of the floor

(I now have a brown patch on my bottom that was pointed out to me upon my return to the house!)

But who cares because the little chaps are lovely.

Mr Fuzzy Butt!

And his friend, Mr Other-Fuzzy-Butt.

The boys wanted to look outside but they didn’t leave me.

Oh, no – the wind was whistling outside.  It was not warm.

Newt decided he wanted to talk to me.

They came and went, taking it in turns to chat.

It was one of those special afternoons.

The little boys are very special.

While I sat on the stable floor, I was walked over a few times but no one trod on me.  I trust them and they trust me.

After an hour, I got up and left them to their own devices.

What better way to spend a Shetland winter afternoon?

Oh yes, changing my pants, trousers and thermals! Perhaps brown stained breeks are not acceptable for tonight’s community choir.