I'm dying of a sore throat and flu like symptoms.
It's clearly punishment for a lovely weekend.
First a trip to the mother in laws farm, with a walk around a sunny end of autumn Stourhead, and a fun curry at the local curry house.
Then to my parents for the annual advent service in the box pews and puritanical crispness of St. Marys Old Dilton. Tom dashing around with my dad lighting candles, and serving mince pies. Old old old carols soaring, sometimes in tune.
I love this. Something I remember from many years past. Singing what people will have sung there for centuries.
Then a jolly evening over soup and snacks at my parents' house, Tom's mum there as well. Even though my cold had kicked in, just lovely.
Today I have been mainly sleeping, trying to shake off these, shivers and get my voice back.