sick day

On Sunday, the low reached 48 degrees.  I have already heard many complaints and groans, but for me this is good news.  Fall is finally here.

Except that Fall brought a cold along with it. 

One of the many blessings of having a spouse is that they are, in a sense, mandated by unwritten laws (some call it love, some call it duty) to coddle you and bring you tea.  Or even bring you two mugs of tea, one with honey and one without.  Just in case.

And then open the exasperatingly difficult Vicks packaging. (On a side note, I'm glad they finally did away with the equal ratio of day to cold and have moved on to a more realistic ratio of 3 to 2.)

Oh, and did I mention shoulder massages for the aches that came with the runny nose?

Then, there is the chicken soup.  In this area, Man went above and beyond the call of duty here and made it from scratch.  For the second time in our so-far short stint of married life.  Delicious.

On top of it all is welcome lack of any black sludgy liquid that seems prevalent in stories of Chinese medicine.  Nor was there anything dried, unrecognizable or unnameable in English.

Yes, I must admit, the cold has not been all that bad so far.