Post 463: The rain needs to hurry up and drop in France and Spain.
With our southern weather set to ramp up next week, any Holibobs to our wonderful county will see plenty of scorched grass and plenty of reasons to sit in the shade of the old chestnut tree.
Never has our garden had dry leaves circling at this time of year, but I’m happy to sweep them up when they gather on the rear patio and pile up nicely for the morning sweep.
My shoulders are ok, but I’m still not doing the physio on them, although I’m sorely tempted to extend their range of movement. My driving isn’t hampered and my upper half is well on the mend.
My back and insides are slightly different and, I suppose, the worst part is that I can’t bend down well or get my bowels right.
The change to fish and meat eating means I should be having more protein and I’m sure that is impacting my waistline, which has surged back to old levels in the last month. This is good, but I feel uncomfortably full all the time and, with the steroids still going in one end, there’s little coming out the other.
You can’t have everything—but yesterday I did have my cake and eat it.
Thanks everyone for the greetings and well wishes. Now my body is settling after all that pain earlier this week with the help of the steroids, I mention them again because I forget how they’ve turned a week of pain into a week of recovery.
I have to thank the hospice doctor for that, and those remarkable pills.
Today I treated Mr V to an early breakfast, but he’s been a messy eater this week and he had to wait for me to clean all three of his bowls on account of the dirt and dregs he’d left in them and all around the garage floor.
So the dirty floor got a hoover with the spare vacuum cleaner that lives beside the messy article’s food hall. Mr V absolutely hates the vacuum noise, so he rapidly disappeared towards the cat flap and the safety of the conservatory while I addressed the mess.
After spring-cleaning the garage, the Mini was tackled next. The MoT man said to check the front nearside indicator for grime because it was working intermittently, so I suspect there’s an earth somewhere.
I grabbed a plastic patio chair, put it in front of the offending lamp and set to work taking a look at it. There was white oxidation on the contacts, so I cleaned them up and gave it another check.
It all worked perfectly.
I’ll do the other side tomorrow.
Little and often, I was always told.
I’ll stick to that motto for now, sweep those leaves up and Big Sis can sit outside this afternoon without the continuous scratching sound of crispy leaves under her feet.
I love it when she comes down. It always means I get a goodie bag of treats and she’s a lovely hugger.
Over the years since Mum’s been gone, which exactly matches my cancer diagnosis to the month, we have grown closer, Sis and me.
I should also say I have with all the family. I love them all for the love and care they show me.
But today, with little Bro and all his gang over in Spain at the seaside, it’s Big Sis who’s causing the garden to get a tidy-up.
She arrived with a huge sponge cake with a lemon sugar icing, rather like a lemon drizzle cake, but made with olive oil and other healthier ingredients for the sake of her hubby’s health—and mine.
Boy, what a massive cake it was!
A cuppa and a slice started the afternoon nicely under the shade of the willow.
My Darling slipped off and, while she was peeling spuds for the lamb roast (yes, even on a hot day), we continued to put the world to rights out in the sunshine after moving from the shade of the tree, where the wind was whipping up dry leaves and firing them at my guests’ upper parts—not very pleasant.
We didn’t go back out into the garden after a lovely long meal of food and chatter.
Instead, we reclined in the TV lounge and, instead of the records spinning, the television went on so I could show them a slice of the BBC’s Ann Droid. Ha ha.
Well, the second slice of cake was called for after three episodes of laughter and irritation from the robot comedy, picking holes in family life when a little extra care is needed in the twilight years.
It’s worth a try.
Our guests went home with two episodes still to watch, but they have to be up for a Rover car rally tomorrow at the break of dawn.
Hugs all round followed by a little clean-up in the kitchen (my task, always), and then bed was looming after a great day with family.
I really hope you had a good one too, and a restful one tomorrow.
Thanks for reading. It makes me more than happy that someone does read the blog, and my little red heart replies mean a lot more than a trite “thanks.”
Speak tomorrow.
Good night.
Take care.
