no writing

[incandescens]

My cold progresses nicely, if nicely is quite the right word. Bah humbug. Have spent most of the day croaking.

Otherwise, my mother's birthday went very nicely. She enjoyed her presents. She and my father went off to Hilliers (local gardening centre/gardens) in the afternoon to buy some stuff and just wander around. Supper was roast pheasant and absolutely gorgeous.

Pondering whether or not to go into work tomorrow. Probably will, as not actually incapacitated, merely fairly voiceless. And besides, if I really do feel appalling, I can always take the afternoon off.

---

No!

No sun--no moon!
No morn--no noon!
No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--
No sky--no earthly view--
No distance looking blue--
No road--no street--no "t'other side this way"--
No end to any Row--
No indications where the Crescents go--
No top to any steeple--
No recognitions of familiar people--
No courtesies for showing 'em--
No knowing 'em!
No traveling at all--no locomotion--
No inkling of the way--no notion--
"No go" by land or ocean--
No mail--no post--
No news from any foreign coast--
No Park, no Ring, no afternoon gentility--
No company--no nobility--
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member--
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds--
November!

-- Thomas Hood

Comments

[aberrantangels]

Believe it or not, I'd never seen this poem before, but I'd heard excerpts from it quite recently. (One of my CDs is the Art of Noise "Art Works" anthology that includes a dramatic reading of bits of the poem as Sprechstimme over synth noodling.)

[incandescens]

I love synchronicity. ;)

[archangelbeth]

Take decongestants if you can, once your nose starts going. It makes the cold a bit more livable.

Waitress last night, we said we had colds, she nodded, I griped about "doctor said up to three weeks," and she said, "Yeah, it does." I groaned and put my head down.

Sorry. O:/