I seem to have come down with mumps. My face is swollen and puffy; other than that I feel a bit ill, but am obviously not *too* ill as I am already bored and grumpy. You see, mumps is highly infectious, and I am confined to the house now for FIVE DAYS. FIVE DAYS. Can I tell you what makes it worse? I was going to change my library books at lunchtime so I don't have very much to read. I guess it's time for some cross stitch or something, but as always with being ill, I don't feel like doing very much apart from moan.
Apart from feeling sore and chipmunk like, I do feel like a character out of a children's book. With the exception of my Mum who managed to get it when I was 8, I don't know anyone else apart from Enid Blyton school girls who have had it. It seems that although there is a vaccination programme, you need to be vaccinated several times and I only got done once by a quirk of my age. It also puts me in mind of Nancy in Arthur Ransome's Winter Holiday; does anyone else rememmber the fantastic illustration of Nancy looking out of her bedroom window with a circle where her face should be, with words along the lines of "it would be too cruel to draw Nancy's face". If my Dad had had mumps, I would get him to bring his copy of the book around to me!
Apologies for tetchiness on the blog - I shall try to find some gentle, restful activities to occupy myself; Mr W is working out on site this week and won't be home until late each night, so comments and chat much appreciated!
(I won't post a picture of my face for similar reasons to Arthur Ransome...)