Post 15: A morning ramble
Vital statistics:
Temp: 36.4 
BP: 131/79/46
Weight: great appetite
Hair: who cares 
Anything else? Nice magnolias
This one’s going to be short, as I’m not ready to write it, but I’ll give it a go.
I’ve thought that in the last few days I’ve stagnated at home, and my mind is weary of the “Groundhog Day” mentality. Although I’m glad I don’t wake up with Cher singing “I’ve Got You Babe,” I do hear the same ringing in my ears—overbearing and annoying. It’s not something I can alter except by noisier noise to nullify the nightmare. But that’s just escalation rather than mediation.
I’d like to listen to some rock music and blast the cobwebs away, but as the day hasn’t yet woken up fully, I guess it’ll have to wait.
I’m reminded that it was St George’s Day yesterday. I’d missed all the normal cues and completely forgotten.
It makes me remember the same Saint’s Day 30 years ago when our youngest was christened. Firstly, I have to say the word christening sounds very old-fashioned and slightly wrong today; but at the time, My Darling and I were only too pleased to have the blessings from above to help our baby’s first few breaths in this great big world.
He’s a big boy now, and who knows what assistance that gave us as we became parents for the second time and adjusted to the huge changes in our lives. Religion doesn’t figure highly in my life now—and probably never really did, in all honesty. I was brought up to know instinctively the morals and ways that a Christian should live, and those traits have stood me in good stead over the years without calling myself religious.
It’s more a matter of values; values to work and live by.
Even recently, with the threat of the clinician’s doom, I haven’t grasped at heavenly straws. I think it helped my mum in her isolation through cancer and Covid to have an online church service in the safety of her flat to help her get by. She was from a different time and schooling, and had a strong sense of connection with her God.
But for me, science is as valid as anything in my life—now even more importantly, medical science.
(I think I’ll edit that out later, as I’ve no idea where all that kinda talk came from.
Note to self: re-read blog and edit the b-Jesus out of it.)
I can now hear the soft tinkling of light rain on the bedroom windows: it’s not my tinnitus, 
and while the curtains are still sleepy and closed, they can’t mask the refreshing sound of this first rain in yonks.
The back garden is usually full of white and blue bluebells this time of year, but due to the lack of rainfall this winter (and spring), very few of the yellowing leaves have any flower stems.
This shower is not going to help them—it’s too late—but it’s still welcome.
But as refreshing as it sounds, and is, it’s going to stop me from striding out with My Darling in a bid to get a walk in early while I still have the energy. That’s the new plan.
Get up, get some exercise and rest or sleep the rest of the day.
She suggests that we’ll go out after breakfast.
“What do you want?” (for breakfast)
I say, “A kiss.”
Ha ha.
It’s not that I’m feeling overtly romantic at all—it’s more that it’s too early to eat, and I’ve not much appetite yet. I’m still digesting the chocolates I munched on just before I came to bed at midnight last night.
I know the best thing for perfect digestion is to stop eating in the early evening, but I still feel like I’m on my normal work pattern—lates—which means I’d eat a lunch at 11 p.m. every shift I work.
That may be an excuse, but I’m sticking with it. 
So my walk is postponed, my breakfast will be forced down, but no other plans for today.
At least I’m not in a funk anymore.
The sadness I felt the other day was a blip, I’m glad to report.
Perhaps what I learned through the talking therapy last year has built a line of defence that automatically helps me on bad days.
I guess that’s the trick—to have automatic responses that prevent the piling up of troubles.
I’m still worried about the holidays (we’ve had to cancel) and the glut of vehicles, but some of that’s going to take a while to process.
Calm down, Mr U.
I can sell the vehicles and downsize my collections of things when I’m in the mood. Mentally I’m in the zone, but my heart’s not there yet.
I heard from our godson’s dad last night, who’s thinking of me every day.
This is why I choose not to tell too many people about my condition—it hurts me that my health issues affect others.
Well, something like that. It’s hard for me to put into words…
The fewer people that know, the less I’m affecting them.
It’s just not easy to explain.
I’d rather worry about other people than myself.
I’ve always been a worrier—what if this, and when will that.
I have been told that I need to stay in the present, as I tend to live in the near future mostly.
Being mindful helps sometimes.
For me, mindfulness occurs occasionally. It’s not a primary reaction.
Something else that I need to work on.
This was meant to be a short post, so I’ll end here.
Sorry for rabbitting on in a stream of nonsense tapped out from my keyboard finger.
My Darling has delivered up a tray of morning delight. Yes, I’m lazy. Again.
Today it’s two lightly poached on brown, with beans and a brace of hash b’s.
I better eat it while it’s hot. Bye for now.
It smells delish. 
I’ll definitely need a long morning ramble after this huge meal.
I’ve noticed a bit of chat on the forum about HT, I will try and get my thoughts on it tomorrow.
Happier today.
Loving the magnolias.
No problems.
Looking forward to next week’s first Tricycle blood test.
Casually Looping;
