cure

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The tiny sniffles that The Fella and I both developed this week have blossomed into full-blown winter colds, giving me a chance to consider the little things that I believe (with a breezy disregard for rational thought) to have actual curative powers:

– hot soup, especially scalding-hot broth with chiles
– ginger ale and its blustery cousin, ginger beer
– buttered toast cut into triangular quarters
– anything eaten in bed from a tray
– NPR, especially “This American Life”
– curling up on the sofa with a fluffy blanket
– rosemary oil
– uncomfortably hot baths
– ghost stories

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