beauty in the nose of the beholder

Driving through the fog this morning listening to my Adele CD all I could think of was my nose.

When I woke this day, my nose was sore to touch, swollen and a brief fright in the mirrorshowed it to be bright red, as well. I look like I could lead the way for W.C. Fields and Rudolph the red nosed reindeer.  I have no idea why. The skin on my nose was sore for a day or so, like sunburn, but I am not sunburnt. I can only guess I had something on my hands and rubbed it on my nose and my skin was irritated it. Notice I wrote on, not in!

I was going to cover with makeup, but then dropped powder makeup all over the bedroom carpet and by the time I cleaned that up I just decided to go with it and to tell everyone that I have a drinking problem. It seemed so much easier.

I took an antihistamine before leading to work. So, as I weaved my way through the morning fog, I briefly contemplated using my nose to light my way, instead of the car lights, before my thoughts turned to how I would no doubt handle the day ahead.

My daughter replied to my email of woe with the suggestion, and what I can only assume was also with the intention of being helpful, that I should Google big red nose, just to find out if it might be a medical condition. Something permanent, no doubt. I did, and “rhinophyma (large, bulbous reddened nose due to unknown cause)” appeared making me no more wiser and a little more worried.

A colleague said that she would check out my glowing ember from time to time throughout the day in case I need either a bag over my head (without a nose hole!) or to make a fiery exit. She said little during the day, but did ask towards days end if I would be in next day. One look in the mirror told me her concern was not entirely misplaced.

I returned home, and glutton for punishment enquired of Mr FD  his opinion of my rosey proboscis and he only hesitated a heart beat to answer “It is not good,” as he left the room. “Perhaps you should go to the doctor, if it doesn’t improve, “ he continued over his shoulder as he disappeared from my reach. “Or buy a pair of big flapping shoes and join the circus,” he continued to Son as he passed through the kitchen.

Heading for the door, I hope. Or he soon will be.

i miss my Dad

A Song

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish you sat on the sofa
and I sat near.
The handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin-bound.
Though it could be, of course,
the other way around.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you’d shift the gear.
We’d find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we’d repair
to where we’ve been before.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.

I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It’s evening, the sun is setting;
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What’s the point of forgetting
if it’s followed by dying?

Joseph Brodsky

Flamingo Files: sugarless, Sunday style.

Sunday breakfast - I used the last of our savings to buy a banana !

Keep your head above water, USA! Oh, that could apply in more ways that one, couldn’t it? Stay dry, stay safe. When our children were small, my Mum would rock them to sleep while she sang them “Goodnight Irene”. Maybe now is not the time to tell you that…

Economic indicators? Next time you are in your supermarket, check out the egg section. If you are in a “wealthy” area the egg section will be small, if however you are shopping in a “poorer” area, the egg section will be large. In these hard economic times, egg sales are going through the roof, because many people can not afford meat, and are eating eggs as their source of protein.

I am trying to give up sugar, as I am indeed a sugar addict. I am into day four and I find that I am eating more protein (eggs for breakfast!). Our raised vegetable garden is starting to provide us with lots of vegetables so that will help, but I do love to bake….muffins! I shall have to look for sugarless alternatives! And no, I will never use artificial sweetener. My body is a temple after all.

Macaroons? So yesterday!

I read that macaroons as so yesterday.  Now the in food is DOUGHNUTS! Not your ordinary everyday doughnuts, but doughnuts with fennel seed sugar or lemon curd. Shall we do a media watch and monitor how long the blogosphere takes to start drooling over doughnuts? I guess you can count me as number one (naturally!).

I forgot to have a Plan B. In fact, I should have had a Plan C,D,E,F, and G, as well. Life is like that.

Do I really need a text message form a co-worker telling me she has had a “big vomit”?

Are you still an adolescent at heart? In many ways, I think men remain adolescents at heart. Women certainly don’t, for even as adolescents we females want to be adults. I make no comment about Mr FD – hell, yes I will. Possibly, he is Neanderthal at heart. On his good days.

I was browsing recipe sites when I came across a list of aphrodisiac ingredients. The list included garlic! Garlic? As in garlic breath?  The list must have originally been compiled by a father of many daughters!

I am going to take this week by the neck and make it dance to my tune… at least Monday…maybe?

Don’t you love the way the rioters in England are “blaming” Facebook for the fact that they rioted? It was on Facebook, so I joined in. So that proves it, we really will jump off a cliff if everyone else does. Mother was right! Aren’t we a species to be proud of?

Do you realise that in just four months, Christmas will be over?

If you plan a spontaneous moment, is it spontaneous?

fill it again, sam

I came home and opened a bottle of red wine tonight. In fact, I stopped on the way home and bought the bottle just in case we didn’t have something suitable. I wasn’t taking chances.

This morning, one of the library techs, The Stupid One to be exact, said that she thought she had to go home as she had stomach pain, I asked her if she wanted me to call her husband, no, did she want someone from the school to drive her home, no… and then she said she thought maybe she needed an ambulance.

I didn’t ask any further questions and called an ambulance. She was having severe stomach pain, then said she was hot, then she went cold and with 5 winter coats around her (we grabbed every coat in the library office) she was still shivering. Her mouth went very dry too but we wouldn’t let her drink in case she needed surgery and so just let her rinse her mouth.

She seemed to decline rapidly so I got one of the men to help her onto the floor and I rolled her into the recovery position on her left side. She appeared to drift in and out of consciousness, but we kept talking to her and makig her stay awake.

Then we waited and waited. Apparently if you don’t say heart attack or stroke, they don’t exactly rush. Another phone call told us they were coming at road speed – no sirens or lights. It was close to an hour before they arrived.

When they did arrive, a male and female officer, we were not impressed by the male as he was very off hand, rather rough and appeared to think she wasn’t as ill as she appeared. They made her sit on a chair but eventually gave her morphine. Then they wanted her to walk to the ambulance!

We were aghast and said no, she will go in the school wheel chair at least, which she did. By the time she got to the ambulance her blood pressure and heart rate were off the machine, and their manner had changed somewhat. In fact they decided to take her to a much closer hospital than the one they originally said.

Last we heard she was admitted for testing and was resting under medication.

Yeah, Friday in the school library. Where is my glass?