My apologies, gang, but I came back from my trip to Michigan sicker than a sick thing. (We now add “flying with head colds” to the list of unsung human miseries…I think one of my ears is STILL popping…) Drawing the world’s roughest wombat doodle up there exhausted me–I’m going back to bed.
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You know, Ursula even your sketches that you send us to tell us that you are sick are cool. At my best I can do stick people, and even they don’t look that hot. Get well soon.
The speech bubble off to the size, would that be The Hag by any chance?
I mash bugs to help you feel better.
Jhalm’s Revenge. 🙂
Hot buttered rum, freshly made and drunk straight away. Sounds bizarre but works well. I think. Here’s enought to go ’round:
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
2 cups light brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
Pinch ground cloves
Pinch salt
Bottle dark rum
Boiling water
Directions
In a bowl, cream together the butter, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt. Refrigerate until almost firm. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of the butter mixture into 12 small mugs. Pour about 3 ounces of rum into each mug (filling about halfway). Top with boiling water (to fill the remaining half), stir well, and serve immediately.
I love Hot Buttered Rum and No-one in England seems to have any idea what it is. Hot toddy, yes, they know that. But not hot buttered Rum. It’s just odd. I make mine with the same rum-and valerian tincture I use in my marginally sublethal Austrian style hot-chocolate mit rum und der tranquiliserherbalisch, for when I can’t sleep or when people annoy me by being inexplicably conscious at unreasonable times when I want to sleep.
Although always keen to recommend alcohol as a cure for also sorts of minor ills, if it’s a head cold a few crystals of pure menthol in a bowl of boiling water may be more beneficial. Possibly with eucalyptus oil of essence of clove if you have any. Do what they do on old cartoons and lean over it with a towel-tent and just brethe. It’ll clear your synapses brilliantly, although your eyes’ may sting too much to draw and you’ll like as not be able to smell much else for a day or so. Still, it’s better that granddad’s favoured sinus cure: handing you a bottle of conc. ammonia without telling you what it was and saying “take a good sniff of that lad.”
I wish both you and Digger a speedy recovery!
Oh, poor Digger! And poor you, Ursula. I hope you feel better by the time this reaches you.
Slower banter?