That time of year again! Bugs and colds and snot and head-colds and awfulness... I can't abide it... I've been poorly this week (do send your prayers and thoughts), no more than a cold I'd say, but good grief I've moaned about it... I can't stand it, if I just accepted the fact that I was ill and took myself off for a couple of early nights, I'm sure I'd shift it, but I just can't (I'm scared of missing out on owt). It's Mr C I feel sorry for most, as he fares the worst from my winter ailments. Last night in bed, I cried that I was sick of being ill, that I felt like a leper, and was lonely (come on I've only been grounded a day or two), yes a touch dramatic. In our early courtship we used to write little love letters to each other, mailing them over the distance Liverpool to Manchester. After a month or two of going out, I fell ill and I filled two pages back to back of finest writing paper simply moaning about being sick.