Strike of the mouth sores

A leisurely trip through the country side. Nothing except the birds, bees, and the sound of two voices travelling inside a small 2003 Peugeot. Let’s listen in as the couple approaches a roundabout:

“Which exit do I take?”


“This one?”

“No – one.”

“This one?”

“No – two.  Here, this next one.”

“This one?”

“Yes – three.”





And so on, roundabout after roundabout. Our GPS confused us so badly today we got lost in our own city centre, got lost on the highway detour, and got lost in the countryside. We got lost so many times, even the road map turned against us. And all the while Zsolt’s family followed us in the car behind. They must have thought we were nuts.

But it was a very pretty drive. The New Forest is a lovely place. Today was a typically English day with the sweeping light rain and greyness all around, which might be depressing if you are stuck at home with a foggy window, but it’s striking as you drive along Hardy-esque landscapes.

The tricky bit today was that I ate a giant scone mid afternoon, and it gave me mouth sores. I’m sure it was the scone – we were sitting round the cafe table, spreading the jams and cream, and about half way through my scone it became less and less comfortable to eat. Forward thirty minutes and my mouth was full of sores. Blah, why does something so sweet have to be so bad? Can’t sugar and cream and white flour be healthy for the body?

Anyhow, my mom is helping me cope with the sores. It’s gotten a bit tricky to talk, but I am hoping the right supplements, some sleep and an occasional dose of warm salt water will make the difference.

And speaking of sleep . . . I’m outta here.

Update: I wrote this blog last night but didn’t publish it then. Today the sores are getting better but still present. However, I can talk and eat which is a great improvement. Still need to keep rinsing, supplementing, and all that jazz. What a freaking pain! Mind you, despite the sores, it was so good to get out of the apartment. Thank goodness for that.