Still heavy with a head cold today. I'd meant to go away to the farm with friends for their mid-winter bonfire this weekend, but I felt the stress of too many things to do and a very sore throat, so decided to stay home. It's a hard one, when you know it will be a wonderful time, but as I said to my mother, 'you can't do all the things'. So I stayed home. In the end, I was too sick for work last week and felt foggy all weekend, a runny nose and the like. By SUNDAY I'd pulled myself together and roped my cousin Flynn into helping me move the old washer and sideboard I was getting rid of. We hired a van, he calmed my nerves while I drove it, we stopped at the bakery (of course), I took a picture through the dusty window (above) and, pleasantly, we managed to shift it all without any drama. We even had time for a cup of tea and the Saturday paper quiz with my grandmother in the afternoon sun. She's doing well, though she's had a rough time of it. Every day with her feels like a blessing, as does a gloriously bright winter afternoon after being sick in bed for days. It was a good one.