A basket of memories

I keep a small basket of small objects that trigger memories for me.

There is nothing of any monetary value, just a shell or three from Northland, a few small flakes of rocks collected from Franz Glacier with Mum, or picked up by a river or on a tramp. A few fossils collected here and there, and the little bottle is from early European settlement in Christchurch. I found it over my back fence the day I ended up with a horrific infection in my finger.

I'm crook as a dog, as the saying go. I managed 1.5 hours at work before being sent home. Yes, the observant will notice it's only 3 weeks since I was last laid low. It's another heavy cold, or the same one returned. I'm a bit rattly but nothing to indicate antibiotics would make the slightest difference.

Other than several hours of sleep, noticing a few small things that remind me of good times is as good as it gets today.