In which I have a cold

Oh goody, I have a cold. I've had lots of soup, tea and lemon drinks, so now my stomach feels awash. The soup was nice, tomato from my garden tomatoes. Feel feeble too. I've got a list of chores, none of which have been done - pick cranberries, dig potatoes, turn compost etc. etc. but I just can't be bothered.
    I've been watching 'Maurice', the Merchant-Ivory movie of E.M Forster's novel. Lovely, lovely Rupert Graves, I've fallen in love all over again with him, rare that you get such a great actor in such a tasty body - he's the whole package.  Hugh Grant and James Wilby not so much. It's hard to believe in Hugh Grant (Huge Grunt as a friend calls him) as a homosexual when you remember his antics with the Divine Miss Brown. James Wilby is not my type at all, I've never liked blondes with wavy or curly hair, funny how we all have a 'type'. Mum didn't like dark men; her beau-ideal was Leslie Howard as Ashley in "Gone with the wind". Daft, who would have Leslie Howard if they could have Clark Gable? The question is of course, purely academic. 
  Not much going on otherwise. The floods have drained away, but the weather men say that we will have another wet weekend coming up.  It's only 19 days now before I fly off to spring in Italy.
Woohoo!

P.S. Just finished a Georgette Heyer ("Cousin Kate"). People in those days suffered from things called 'putrid sore throats' (why putrid I don't know) and applied things called cataplasms to their feet. I had to look up cataplasm - it's a poultice, and applied to the feet was supposed to drain infection from the upper body, away from the more crucial areas like the heart and lungs. I have no intention of applying cataplasms to my own feet in my putrid sore throat state.