Mondayitis: Oh for the Sunny Shore!

Kayaks resting on the shore after our paddle along the North Western Australian Coastline.

No one knows what I suffer! Just last year I had a bout of the dreaded Man Flu where I teetered on the brink of death for fully 4 days, thankfully snatched from the Grim Reaper’s skeletal grasp at the last moment by the judicious use of cough lozenges and a good lie down.

Now it is the toothache!

Having just turned 46, and consequently closer to 90 than birth, I was already feeling less than chirpy, when just last week, the Gods, obviously feeling that turning 46 was not insult enough, added injury in the form of a delightful abscess.

I now know how poor Job felt when God decided just to see how far the poor chap could be pushed.

Manfully bearing the pain (with nothing more than the assistance of extra strong pain killers) I have battled on. My nearest and dearest oblivious to the level of agony I have been enduring (despite my agonised groaning and irresistible wounded puppy dog eyes of deepest brown.) I have not wanted to alarm anyone but I am sure the abscess has already affected my brain.

In fact, had I lived in Victorian times, I am sure that they would already be carving a cherub encrusted marble tombstone with “Here lieth TJ, beloved by everyone. He died of a toothache”, or some such edifying epitaph.

Thankfully, dear old Sir Alexander Fleming left his sandwich to go off and inadvertently discovered penicillin, and so I am here today, sharing with you, dear reader, this moving account of my suffering.

“How can you write dear TJ while so ill?” I hear you ask.

Naturally the answer must be “For my readers no bed of pain shall keep me from my keyboard.”

The image is one of younger and happier days when all I had to endure was a five kilometre sea kayak journey through crystal clear shark infested waters. Ah…happy days.

So I bid you farewell for the time being dear reader as I must attempt to keep up my strength with something simple and nourishing like Magret de Canard or a little foie gras with truffles (although I shall be obliged to nibble them as the rabbits do, with my front teeth, so in agony am I)

Adieu Mes Amis and should I never meet you more on this side of the veil then I shall expect to see you in the next.

Photo 101 – Pop of Colour