20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


It all began Sat. morning when I was getting ready to go to my writing group. We were participating in the “Tales Around the Tree” event that was being held at an elegant old library, once a bank. I’ve written about that elsewhere. I’d awakened with a thin voice, blazing sore throat, and deep cough. I decided to soldier through my responsibilities.


My voice is back, the sore throat is gone, but the cough has gone way down deep and become much worse. It feels like someone is standing on my chest so I called my pulmonologist but couldn’t get an appointment until Thurs. at 9:15. Then I decided I would also call my doctor and fortunately I got an appointment for this afternoon at 2:30. In the meantime I’m chugging Robitussin.

I really want to write, but I may not be too productive today. I’ll catch up. Have a good day, everyone.


A Bowl of Soup

I wish I had a bowl of soup

Alas, but I do not.

But if I had a bowl of soup

I’d like it nice and hot


But not too hot, just warm enough

To soothe my throat so sore

And if the soup was good enough

I might just ask for more


But since I have no bowl of soup

I’ll make a cup of tea

The herbal kind with lemon

And delightful, sweet honey


I hope you like this little poem

Though it’s not some great verse

Remember, while it’s not the best

I’ve penned, by far, much worse.


1 Comment

Hi, Everyone

I’m a slight bit better today, but am still coughing a lot, from way down deep. Still my ribs ache with every cough, to the point where I have to hold a pillow tight to my chest when I cough. Actually, that doesn’t help much. I also have earache, very sore throat, pain upon swallowing, and the medicines are making me super-sleepy. Yesterday the doctor added Benadryl at bedtime so I could sleep well. If I don’t get good sleep, those darned seizures rear their ugly heads. So I needed a way to sleep, rather than let the coughing keep me awake nights.

But I’m learning something. When I haven’t written for a day (or more), I feel empty. I need the creative juices to lubricate my writing joints, and when I don’t or can’t write, I feel an emptiness in me. I can’t wait to feel well enough to get back into the flow.

Meanwhile, thank you for your good wishes. They mean much to me.


I Match the Day

I canceled my plans (writing group) today because I feel so rotten. It’s 30 degrees outside, and my husband just called to say that where he is it’s snowing. SNOWING…after we’ve had temperatures in the 80s. This weather is crazy.

My cough is worse, I’m even more sore from Sunday’s fall, and I have no energy. I’ll try to write, but I’m not holding my breath. I can hear the wind blowing, the color out there is grey, and I might even call the doctor, but really, I can hardly imagine all the work it will take to shower, dress, and drive the eleven miles to his office, even if I could get an appointment. All I want to do is curl up and sleep…all day.

Now if that doesn’t sound like a “couch potato” sort of day, I can’t think of anything that does. So I hope you will forgive me for not being very productive.

Maybe I’ll get back here later. Thank you for understanding.


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