In Sickness and in Health.

Wiped out by a sick bug - it serves me right for going on about buttered buns. I woke up yesterday feeling so sick that I couldn't move. I was worried to death in case the food I had cooked the night before, for me and Gay Friend, had caused it. But when I phoned Gay Friend to confess, he was fine - so that was a relief. However, I was feeling so bad I couldn't even read, which is rare indeed. I lay in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, and I think Daughter appeared at some point to ask if I needed anything. "No", I groaned "I already have two kinds of water, boiled and sparkling." It was strange to lose a whole day, but I couldn't keep awake.
Daughter came back, with Grandson, this morning, and I was feeling a bit better, so managed a cup of tea. Nothing else passed my lips until this afternoon when I had a piece of toast. And now, I feel fine.

I looked at my Facebook and found a message from another old friend, met during a holiday on Skyros in 2001. We have kept in touch, but Facebook seems a very easy way to do something more immediate. I guess it's like a chatroom - though that is something I've never tried, and at least with Facebook it's people you know already. There was also another connection from Skyros on her Facebook, so I contacted him, in Vancouver, and now have another Facebook Friend. It sounds a bit Barbie, I know, but I really am enjoying it.

Thank god I turned down the last German student, because I wouldn't have been able to stand up, let alone prepare breakfast and dinner for her. It has only happened once before that I was ill when I had a foreign student. He was from the Italian Navy and stayed with me for 8 weeks. All was relatively fine until the last couple of weeks of his stay, when I got the 'flu, which really wiped me out. His english wasn't too good, so I had to leave him notes, and relied on friends to shop for me. I was so ill that I couldn't come down to feed him and had to give him food I'd prepared earlier! At one point he left me a note, which I thought might be a commiseration for my state of health. What it actually said was "Salt is finished."
So much for the sympatico Italian.