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CUT, FOLD, CALL, MEET, PRESENT, DIG, DIE

 I AM officially down for the count. I felt a tickle in the throat on Wednesday, by Thursday my voice was hoarse and my throat hurt. On Fri...


 I AM officially down for the count. I felt a tickle in the throat on Wednesday, by Thursday my voice was hoarse and my throat hurt. On Friday morning I woke up in a sweat. Saturday I mooched about the house bemoaning the germs that had invaded my usually indestructible immune system and today I dragged myself off to the medical centre for a pharmaceutical miracle.

Mind you, I put up a good fight. I was a dirty stop-out and spent Thursday night with Sydney’s blogging best. On Friday I directed a work presentation and yesterday I plonked my sorry self down in my neglected vegetable garden and ever so slowly pulled weeds.

Things have ground to a near standstill since and I’ll take my cue. The candle has been burning both ends. Case in point was the ABCD meet goodie bags. I might, just might, have been folding origami shirts while on a national telephone hook-up on Thursday and whipped up the final half dozen, or so, after booking into my accommodation and before meeting this sassy lassy for the first time – at 6.30pm.

For new visitors to my blog, hi there, I think I've moved on from being contagious so please do hang about for a bit. Or, if you'd prefer, you'll also find me on Facebook and Twitter.

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