I have a cold and it’s my own fault. I’ve always been lucky in that I hardly ever get what’s “going around”. But if I get chilled all bets are off. Just last week we had an unseasonably warm spell and like everyone else I decided to go without a hat. Well everybody else went without hat, coat, gloves, boots…but a hat was enough for me to relinquish. Big mistake. By the next afternoon my throat was sore and I was burning up. I always dreamt of a “sick” day at home in bed watching old movies, drinking tea and eating chocolate. Well that wasn’t going to happen. In fact the thought of chocolate made me gag so you know I was at death’s door. Now if it had been hot I would never have caught a chill or a “cold”. Cold. I don’t even like the word. I don’t like cold drinks. I drink “un-chilled” white wine. I only have an air-conditioner because of my dog and I have to bundle up when it’s on. I don’t even have an ice-cube tray (actually I do but it’s for storing my watercolor paints). Okay I know that all seems a bit extreme but I really would rather have a “hot” than a “cold” if given the choice.