That's the start of a poem I remember hearing as a kid. I don't know how the rest of it goes, but those opening lines are oh, so true!
It's a Bea-u-tiful day here in the Chicago 'burbs - abundant sun, a slight breeze, temps in the 70s with absolutely no humidity. Outside my window, our annual suburban Art Festival is in full swing with music, food and dozens of artists selling their wares. Lots of happy people are enjoying the sunshine, the band, the hot dogs and the glass-blowing demonstrations.
But I'm inside at the computer - red-nosed and stuffy. A stack of Puffs tissues by my side. Swigging orange juice and hot tea. It's a very sad scene. This kind of misery is better suited to a gray, gloomy afternoon in December - not a sparkling June day straight out of a beer commercial! I'm pretty sure I caught this cold in Vegas. Must have been a nasty virus circulating around the quarter slot machines.
I'm doubly glum because I'm traveling again tomorrow - this time doing a five-day 'reunion tour' of the Hoosier state (that's what I'm calling it anyway). I'll be visiting college friends and friends from my community theatre days in Indianapolis, people I haven't seen in years. I've been looking forward to this for months, and the last thing I want to bring these people is a cold virus. I'll be out of the blogosphere for several days for this trip, but I'm sure I'll have some wonderful postings when I return.
Catch you all later!