Forwards and occasionally sidewards – everyday musings of life

Day four of the cold from hell started once again in the pitch-black, early hours of the morning—me pacing around drinking cold remedies while the rest of Pewsey slept peacefully.

My colds usually follow a highly predictable cycle: a tickly throat moves to a sore throat, leads to a blocked head, drops into a delightful chesty cough, and finally, after four or five days, it starts to clear. Not this one. This absolute stinker has forced me to endure every single one of those symptoms, simultaneously, every single day. I am utterly fed up with it now and actively looking for someone to pass it on to. Karen seems completely immune; she hasn’t had the slightest hint of a sniffle or a sneeze. It makes me wonder if she was secretly Patient Zero all along.

It was the Fiat’s turn for its delayed MOT today. Given that the forecast predicted another sweltering day and the house was swarming with trade activity, we decided to drop the car off and spent the day hunting down the coolest spots we could find.

As it turned out, the absolute best micro-climate in Wiltshire was inside the Cayenne. The air conditioning kept us and the dogs blissfully chilled as we toured the local coffee shops. The Coffi Lab in Marlborough was my personal favourite—and Moog’s too. It was quiet, incredibly relaxing (apart from my persistent coughing fits), and beautifully cool. Honestly, I could have stayed in there all afternoon.

But while I could have happily spent the rest of the day sitting around, drinking iced coffee as a clever disguise to escape the caravan furnace, Karen actually had some serious ‘big girl’s work’ to do. Her dad’s flat had finally, officially sold, requiring her attention for the paperwork. So, while she handled the legalities, the dogs and I stuck to our strengths: keeping cool, drinking caffeine, and having a catch-up with Vicky.

With both cars now officially MOT’d, Alec’s flat sold, and the Green Banks snagging list virtually complete, the day turned out to be anything but a total cold-ridden write-off.