Saturday, April 24, 2010

Stupid Fuzzy Brain = Fairy Free Zone

So I think I have man flu, or at least whatever the female version of it is. It’s really just a nasty cold, passed on from my dad who seems rather proud of the fact, but I’ve been having a rather male-like huff about it all week. If the truth be told, though, I usually quite enjoy having a cold. I especially like it when it’s lashing the rain outside and you get to lie in front of the fire all sniffly and cosy with a blanket and a crappy film. It is also the perfect excuse to enjoy one of the only other hot drinks to give tea a run for its money, the hot toddy.

But it’s not raining, the weather’s actually been quite pleasant the past few days. And I haven’t had the luxury of being able to just lie in the house either. To top it off, despite dreaming about it how good it was going to be when I got home this evening, I forgot to buy the bloody whiskey for my toddy. So now I’m sitting here moaning about it. Worst cold ever.

You know, I really do think I have a man’s personality when it comes to illness. By that I mean that I whinge much more about minor ailments than I do about those that are a bit more hardcore. Take this post for example. I’m sitting complaining about a stupid cold when I’ve actually had real trouble with my health over the past year and never once mentioned it on this blog. I’m not going to get into it now either but I’ll probably explain at a later date. A couple of weeks ago I found out I have to go to hospital for another operation and whenever I do I’ll be out of blogging action for a while, so I’ll post about it when the time comes.

Anyway, I’m not really in the mood to post about fairies or other pretty things today, so instead here’s my not-so-technical recipe for the perfect hot toddy. I know everybody’s had one before but I’ve heard of people putting all sorts of silly things into theirs (like rum, I mean what the hell!). Believe me, this is the original and best.


You will need:
A shot and a half of good whiskey (or whisky for you Scots);
Four or five cloves;
Half a mug of boiling water;
Two lemon slices;
A big dollop of honey.

Method:
Stick the cloves into the lemon slices, add to the whisk(e)y, pour in the water, then add the honey. Tres difficile, as you can see, but super tasty. I wish I had one now. Oh, and just a wee note, the hot water should evaporate most of the alcohol but if you’re tolerance is as low as mine has become in recent years then I wouldn’t recommend operating heavy machinery afterwards.

8 comments:

JJ Beazley said...

Wouldn't recommend it for flu, though. I only ever had flu once in my life (and it's nothing like a heavy cold. Tons and tons worse.) I spent the first day in bed (again, only time in my life.) I spent most of the second day in bed, and then decided a hot cup of tea laced with a drop of scotch might pick me up. No, just the opposite. Three sips and I felt violently sick. I headed at what pace I could muster for the bathroom; and then came to, lying on the kitchen floor. No idea how long I was out, but out I'd been. At least the nausea had passed, and the following day felt half way back to normal.

So sorry about the 'serious' illness. I had some tests last year, and spent six weeks wondering whether I would still be here at Christmas. That was an interesting experience. I do hope everything goes well for you. You're the only colleen I know. That's selfish, isn't it? Sorry.

Róisín said...

Just reread that comment and at the end there I meant to write 'hear' not 'here'. I can be pedantic at times and the fact that I never reread comments before I post them can drive me mad at times.

JJ Beazley said...

It turned out to be a non-malignant variety. Thanks. Repetitive pain can be very debilitating, as my two years with an ulcer taught me. Hope you get sorted.

Róisín said...

Glad to hear it. Must've been terrifying though. Oh, and I've had the whole ulcer carry on before too! I was fairly lucky with mine though 'cause both my mum and fiance had had one and were able to recognise it straight away. Got it sorted pretty quickly, can't imagine having it for two years. Maybe that's why I'd happily take it back again in exchange for this thing now. There was one of my nurses who had had the same 'thing' as me and she had had a baby too- she reckoned that childbirth is a doddle compared to the operation. That would be comforting, only I don't plan to have a baby in the next year while I do however have to get the bloody op again! Yipee.

JJ Beazley said...

Oh dear. Now I'm worried about you. I don't even know you, except through your eyes. But I don't like to think of you being in pain. Still, the Irish are tough buggers. They say that pain is best viewed as a phenomenon. It works for me - sometimes.

Good luck, Roisin. One step at a time. The good stuff is next.

mxtodis123 said...

I'm sorry to hear that you are under the weather. I have a good recipe for you...only no whiskey included. Make yourself a nice ginger tea.
Fresh ginger
Squeeze juice out of a whole lemon
A few whole cloves
About 3 cinnamon sticks
Bring to boil and simmer til flavors are well blended.
Serve with honey
Knocks it right of you.
Mary

Róisín said...

JJ- I appreciate your concern but there's no need to worry. We Irish are indeed tough, and I'm harder than your average nut.

mxtodis- That's sounds yummy! I'm not usually a big fan of fresh ginger (a girl I used to live with at college put it in EVERYTHING and now I'm a wee bit sick of it) but mixed with all those other lovely things I'd say it would work a treat. Must give it a go. Thank you!

TheAmazingFoxworthBlog said...

It sounds like you're an awful patient altogether - i'd be giving no sympathy to your sniffly self!!!!

Here's hoping soon - maybe even Thursday - that you're fit and fighting free again!!!!

My cure for the cold / flu is this, and I call it "The 5 L's", :

Lucozade
Lockets
Lemsip
Lying in Bed
and most importantly - LOVE.

Always gets me going again :-)

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