a modicum of exercise

Although I have never considered ME as primarily a ‘fatigue’ condition, pain, cognitive difficulties, postural hypotension, sensitivities to sound and light, and post-exertional-malaise, being more distinct identifiers, the past several days have found me in a quite sustained  state of shattered exhaustion. Intermittent, unrefreshing, nocturnal episodes of sleep, do little to relieve fatigue, even as a component of quite prolonged periods of (supposed) rest.

This afternoon, although still somewhat achingly tired, I took Piper for a walk, accompanied by ma belle OH, and, in spite of having to shorten the circuit on which we roamed, I felt (emotionally) better for the exercise! Admittedly, a couple more painkillers were necessary to ease the aftermath experience.

All in all, the presence of Piper as a family member has proved wonderfully therapeutic, and the warmth of his adoring gaze is more than sufficient to melt the heart of this hardened cynic, regardless of how under par, physically and/or emotionally, I may be feeling, as the blessed recipient.

Much as our beloved pet enjoys both bounding leaps, and slow, nose led, meanders around the garden, he has developed an undue readiness to dig holes in the grassy area, frequently followed by an attempt to sneak back into the lounge before we have a chance to check the cleanliness of his fore-paws.

As recompense for the brevity of this posting, I’m adding a few recent snapshots of the garden (and Piper in it’s environs)

Times they are a changing as the Piper calls

A time of change; as all things turn, there is always a return made, an apparent centring to what has been a slow created essence of one’s being! Quite why I scribbled down that opening line, I’m a little uncertain but, I am aware that certain changes, so rapidly, assimilate to one’s sense of place that they swiftly seem as if they had always been!

We have swiftly adapted to the revamped home, following the many weeks during which the extension work, chez nous, took place. Somehow it seems as if the adaptations had been made to accommodate our family’s latest arrival. As yet we await confirmation that we will be able to adopt our foster boy ‘Piper’.

Piper is a beagle and (assumed) Labrador cross, he certainly has many of the traits that are typical of beagles, always following scents of potential prey wherever he goes, and he has an insatiable appetite for food. The beagle trait is unmistakeable in the head and his colouring is quite like a less saturated version of a red fox Labrador.

Having spent five years in a pound in Spain, where he was bullied and attacked by other dogs, he has a slightly nervous disposition but, has settled in wonderfully into our household. At first he seemed to have a wariness of homo sapiens males, much preferring the female of the species but I was surprised how quickly he accepted me. Piper is definitely a people dog, and has swifltly re-organised the days for ma belle et moi. He’s just so endearing!

Ma Belle generally takes him for morning walk before he has his first meal of the day, so she’s getting the most exercise she has had in quite sometime, sometimes I accompany them both, for at least some of the time, in the evening! Thursday evening I actually managed the longest walk that I’ve had since 2003, and only had minimal payback in terms of a minor degree of shatteredness. Admittedly the back support came into play last evening, as I’d sprained the muscles on the left hand side of my back, probably caused when competing for space in my favourite armchair!

In the morning it’s wonderful to be greeted by the bounding energy ball, that is Piper, as he races upstairs and pounces upon the duvet,  expressing his joy in being here to share my life. Usually a quite boisterous greeting but, this morning, as if acknowledging my back-aching jadedness, he just flopped beside me, forepaws placed gently over my arm.

We are fortunate in having a reasonably well secured, sizeable garden which he always enjoys exploring, in his preparedness to see off any trespassing felines. Just like us he enjoys a reasonably sustained chilled out flop, between bouts of exercise and/or feeding.

In the eight / nine days he has been with us I’ve not needed to resort to wrist, elbow, or shoulder supports, nor have I needed to increase my pain-killer intake. If being part of our family is as therapeutic for him as it is for me, we are both well and truly blessed. My step-daughter Beth who lives, with her four cats, across town is totally smitten with the boy and happily proffers her dog walking services for Piper.

Garden Aspects

I always feel at peace with the world when I step out into our garden -

sometimes I even forget the copious nagging ailments 

that play such a (largely negative) part in my daily experience

****************

there are more snapshots - Apple Blossom Time chez nous - on Mal's Murmurings

https://malsword.wordpress.com/2016/06/01/apple-blossom-time-chez-nous/

jet powered fluttering

I love these bright sunshiny Spring days; I was going to say mornings but, by the time I have manoeuvred myself from the divan, and into daytime apparel, ante-meridian is already veering toward the post component of the day. At this time of the year I’ve at least got a few more daylight hours to appreciate, even when the body achingly summons me to an afternoon nap.

What I don’t like about these bright days is the omnipresent temptation to do a little pottering about in the garden. Don’t get me wrong, I loved gardening when it didn’t have a payback clause attached, whereas now it’s far too easy to forget the limited number of spoons available.

When I succumb to the garden’s lure it so easily leads me to forget about “pacing”. My beloved is always good at reminding me to slow down, or stop, these times of physical endeavour, especially when I’m enjoying the change from my otherwise sedentary lifestyle. Actually, much of the time, the word sludge seems more appropriate than sedentary to express how this mode of being feels. Yesterday a short time spent mowing the lawn, albeit using an electric mower, seemed to have used up most of my 24 hour stamina supply.  

It’s always wonderful to hear the buzzing hum of the bees, both bumble and honey, as I walk past the heather laden rockery towards the wildlife friendly reserve at the far end of the garden. Primroses and cowslips are thriving and the nettles are springing back to life; the chatter, piped and fluted songs, of our avian visitors make an idyllic background as I move into reclining mode in the summerhouse.

 Even the fluttering butterflies seem like jet propelled aircraft in comparison to my enforced lethargy.

living moderately

Well hello again! I’m not sure whether its weeks or months since I last proffered a “proper” blog post and, I must admit that the prospect seems rather daunting. No excuses, there’ve been good times and bad times, rough days and smooth days, since my last full offering and my stamina reserves have been used on other pursuits.

Upturns are represented by my casting aside the walking stick on several occasions, managing a moderately brisk walk of several hundred yards, whilst still lamenting an inability to manage a few miles. Some people are never satisfied!

I still enjoy our garden, no matter what the season, albeit from a passive observational perspective; what would we do without the professional services of our friend Martyn? Although I sometimes pride myself on my pacing, I still find myself suffering the payback penalty when enthusiasm for a modest task leads to even a modicum of over-exertion.

The usual problem is recognizing the exertion that may be demanded to fulfil an apparently simple undemanding task. One such example was a recent successful attempt at re-potting a contorted hazel shrub. Initial preparation of the new container went smoothly but, once I’d placed the plant in situ, the task of infilling turned out to be the proverbial straw. Brain fog, an amplification of all my familiar sundry aches and pains (muscular, joints, lymph nodes, abdominal spasms etc) and an inability to control my legs as I headed back to the house – a kind of conscious restless leg syndrome! The next couple of days passed in an achingly painful, mentally hazy, sense of being; it took a little more time before a tingling sensation of being trapped in an undersized skin receded.

It’s a few weeks now since my beloved retired from her salaried employment, at the doctors surgery, so I’m really enjoying more of her company. Mind you, she’s still meaningfully occupied as a local preacher, an assistant on computers at the Acorn Centre, Fair Trade issues and involvement with the local Labour Party.

 Until recently it has been somewhat difficult to persuade her to take much needed recuperative rest. Having always pushed myself, working and playing hard, prior (and probably causally related) to succumbing to ME, I do worry that some people ill-advisedly over exert themselves rather than listening to their bodies and ensuring they always have some stamina in reserve.

                                                            ++++++++++++++++++++

Encountering ME - a selection of poems, reflecting my experience of living with moderate ME can be read online or available as a free download from Scribd.

Mal’s ME Jottings – a selection of blog posts are also available on Scribd – read online or available as a free download.

  

just a few visitors

I just posted this video on YouTube last evening and decided to share it here as well!

 

House Sparrows cereal break

looking out the window

just random shots through our living room window -

our verdant garden

the young visitor

this young sparrowhawk stopped by, Sunday lunchtime, for a rest on our summerhouse!

rescue service

this little fellow was resting in the middle of our lawn (where predatory cats may visit despite our best endeavours to keep the garden feline free) – at first I wasn’t even sure if it was alive but, when I placed my hand in front of it almost rolled onto it and soon after extended it’s claws to grip my finger.

 I walked up to the birdbath with it on my finger thinking that it may need water and then put a little bird food in my hand hoping to tempt it to eat.

It was with great relief that I watched it, energy reserves replenished, fly swiftly on its way. Although I wouldn’t normally attempt to handle a free creature, the threat of it becoming a cat’s trophy seemed to justify  my intervention.

no more the adventurer

You’d think, by now, that I’d have learnt to pace myself, after all the theory is quite simple! All one has to remember is to keep some physical (and emotional) stamina in reserve; one has of course always to remember how much lower the energy reserve plateau is than it was pre-illness onset.

 

 Before I succumbed to this condition, (moderate ME), I would think nothing of walking to work, being on my feet most of the day, then coming home, going out to concert, gig, cinema, exhibition preview, attend house group, and later return home all on foot. Very few hours abed would serve to restore energy levels to the necessary level. Socializing always came easy, only rarely did any event attended / ambience prove at all stressful. Thankfully, I had no idea that this comfortable mode of being was going to be taken away from me, unless by the grim reaper.

 

Yesterday morning I’d reduced my bed rest time from 12 to 8 ½ hours, as we were expecting delivery and erection of our summerhouse, which had originally been promised for the 8^th July, and ours was the delivery team’s first drop/job timed for an 08.00 - 10.00 am slot.

 

I was already feeling a sense of giddy light-headedness, and general nausea inducing discomfort, before the delivery team were due to arrive. When they arrived, at around 9.00am, I went out to make sure that they were going to position the doorway, and windows in the required direction. They wondered whether I wanted it positioning in such a way that one array of windows would be running parallel to, and approx 2’6” away from the back of our prefabricated garden shed. I quickly put that right but I was also informed that they would need to chop a significant branch from a tree behind the base that we had prepared, and which had been inspected and approved by someone from the supplying merchant who made no mention of this requirement. [Obviously the base was inspected for suitability without any attention being paid to any other environmental factors which may impede the erection of the aforementioned building!]

 

By this time, the frustration of circumstance seemed to exaggerate both the nausea and the crushing disorienting sense of light-headedness. I reluctantly gave them the go-ahead to dismember parts of the tree before ‘phoning my beloved at her place of work; having informed my OH of how crap I was feeling and warned her that I would soon be likely to turn the air blue, she said she’d pop back to deal with any problems that may arise. No sooner had I put the ‘phone down, and started a necessary/essential period of rest on the sofa, than one of the workmen tapped on the door. They had noticed both mould and a split in the back section of tanalized timber, rending it unfit for purpose. At this juncture I let loose a string of invective concerning the company that they were working for and, said that as far as I was concerned they could take it all away, refund our deposit and give us a couple of hundred quid compensation for all the inconvenience we’d been put through. I also suggested, somewhat more measuredly, that they may as well wait for my OH to arrive and see what she thought.

 

Having taken away all the components of the summerhouse at ma belle’s request, they said that they would get the supplier to ‘phone her at work to discuss compensation and re-arrange delivery and erection of a building ‘fit for purpose’!

 

It was only after the kerfuffle had passed that I fully realized just how shattered I was. The (supposedly good) weather recently, above average temperatures, sunshine and cloying humidity, always play havoc with an already erratic body thermostat. Not only had I been deprived of necessary bed rest but, I was also receiving a degree of ‘payback’ for some minimal over-exertion in terms of cooking, domestic chores, entertaining and dining out with our special friends, Peter & Pamela, who had traversed the Pennines in order to see us at the weekend.

 

As I suggested earlier, what once I would have taken in my stride would now appear to be the most foolhardy kind of adventuring! 

 

 

*************

 

I commented on Twitter yesterday:

 

 this time the outpouring
of expletive laden invective
fails to alleviate
the nausea inducing malaise
- otherwise I'm OK!  

apologia

Yet another afternoon spent in the garden, this time in the shade of a parasol beside the pond.

 A couple of weeks ago I’d never have dreamt

of making such a statement having undergone an extremely protracted

autumn and winter of cold and damp weather,

  the wet aspect being but a pale reflection of last summer’s weather.

 In the course of the last couple of weeks we’ve been blessed

 with many warm sunshiny days which inevitably

turned ones thoughts and footfall towards the garden.

 

The preceding paragraph, or words to similar effect,

 were to have been the opening of a web log posting a fortnight ago but,

much to my surprise, I’ve now been able to spend

 even more time in the garden although the weather has once again became more changeable.

I’m still not able to cope with very warm humid atmospheres;

 it’s largely been a matter of choosing the appropriate times and circumstance

 to venture out. I’ve been taking a few snapshots of aspects of the garden’s flora and fauna and,

undertaken some gardening chores

without exerting myself beyond reasonable self-imposed* “pacing” limits!

 

On many occasions, feeling a little guilty

about neglecting the blog, I’ve settled down beside an inert keyboard

with every intention of resuscitating it

but the necessary emotional stamina seems to have been

in extremely limited supply.

 

++++++

 

 

*more honestly “health-imposed” but one likes to feel, to some extent,

in charge of one’s own destiny.

 

 

 

On Time, Joys, and minor Tribulations

I’ve asked it before, and it’s equally puzzling now but, just where does all the time go? I’m not talking physics or metaphysics, but rather that constant source of bemusement - to yours truly - that hours, days, months and years all pass so swiftly that I’m unable to find the time to even get started on any of the multiple tasks or projects I’ve been considering.

 

I deem myself very fortunate that I can still manage to appreciate, with an almost constant sense of wonder, that there is something rather than nothing; I still feel quite awestruck when I gaze at the panoply of stars in the night sky and contemplate the vast distances and time through which these illuminations occur. I am always amazed by the sheer variety of flora and fauna even within the constraints of our back garden.

 

It was wonderful to experience a few days of sunshine, and reasonable warmth, after the somewhat protracted spell of wintry weather; I even managed to do a little pottering about in the garden and extracted, with the aid of a PondVac, some of the aromatic mud deposit from the garden pond.

 

I also enjoyed sitting  and relaxing outdoors observing the avian activity. On one afternoon, having just watched a Red Kite gracefully riding the thermals above our garden, I noticed a few Redpolls visiting the Nyjer seed feeder – a first for our garden!

 

 

 

Last Thursday morning I attended the dermatology unit at Harrogate District Hospital for some minor surgery and, after several hold-ups en route, it was wonderful to get into the surgery on time. The whole procedure, preparation for and excision of a basal cell carcinoma from my chest (up towards the shoulder) and a biopsy sample taken from a lesion on my leg, took around forty-five minutes.

 

Unlike the time a carcinoma was excised from my back, when the dressing was kept in situ for several days and the stitches removed after 14 days, on this occasion I was told to remove the dressing after twenty-four hours and the ten external stitches to be removed after 10 days but, the one stitch on my lower limb is not be removed until 14 days have passed. I have to treat the wound two or three times a day with soft yellow paraffin which tends to adhere to my shirt or pyjama jacket. They also provided spare dressings for the small leg wound which is also protected by a tubular bandage from toes to knee.

 

I must admit that the chest/shoulder wound still feels somewhat tender and I’m having to be careful that I don’t stretch to reach anything with my left arm. Apart from that, I’m pretty well my usual frequently shattered self.

... and the usual suspects

Things seemed much brighter, as I benefitted from the cumulative effect of two acupuncture sessions in relatively close proximity, but these gains in terms of stamina level and lower levels of pain weren’t destined to endure.

 

 A bout of toothache, responding to touch and vibration of a toothbrush but not to either heat or cold, quickly faded only to return a couple of weeks later. The return was certainly with a vengeance as the ache extended through my jaw right up to the chin. An emergency appointment with the dentist led to one extraction and a course of antibiotics for a deep rooted infection. Whereas at one time I would have taken these things in my stride the effect has not been to dissimilar to that of a ‘Mickey Finn’.

 

So, Friday afternoon found me in the dentist chair and Wednesday saw me take the final dose of amoxicillin. On Tuesday morning I had to emerge from the duvet lair long before my usual hour of bravely facing the (fairly) new day; my appointment had finally come around at the Dermatology and Lesions clinic. The clinician confirmed the basal cell carcinoma on my chest and suspects that the lesion on my leg is Bowens so, within the next few weeks I’ll be having the bcc excised and a biopsy taken of the suspected Bowens.

 

All in all, these events have left me feeling a little more shattered than is my norm but, at least I’ve been able to enjoy a few rare glimpses of sunshine in the garden as I watch the birds devour whatever treats we’ve placed at the sundry feeding stations.     

from the frontline

Sometimes it’s difficult, if not impossible, to describe the exhausting ache of self-questioning, veering towards a sense of guilt for being ill and hence, a burden or embarrassment to those who you really care about. I must be honest that even this preludium to a post doesn’t really express the underlying frustration that prompts it; at root, the knowledge that even the best of days carries a stamina rating of perhaps 20 - 30% of my pre-illness norm.

 

What I was really wanting to say is that the relative paucity of postings, arising from a desire to communicate (with and for whom I know not), bears little distinct correlation to my present levels of pain, discomfort, joy or plain normality. There are times when I wish to write but simply lack the necessary energy to place the written words in any meaningful order; at other times I am positively glowing with the enjoyment of spending time with my beloved, excited by the variety of avian visitors to our sundry garden feeding stations, or even the refreshing joy of a brief brisk venture out into the bracing air, can fill me with such glorious images which, were I to write them down, would sound like an overblown description of some utopian paradise.

 

An evening cocktail of tramadol and amitriptylene tends to curb the night pains, even though sleep is invariably of a restlessly intermittent unrefreshing variety. In the morning I continue to take a low dose of sertraline which seems to control the reactive depression which this disease can so frequently carry in it’s wake. Currently I am also taking mebeverine (3 x daily) and lansoprazole (2 x daily) in an attempt to ease my IBS and gastro-oesophageal reflux problems.

 

I am extremely fortunate to experience a fair number of days where pains and muscular spasms are quite simply a faint background hum, futilely struggling against my enjoyment of the day. Unfortunately, at night, as my body strives for rest the fitful pattern of sleep leaves one more vulnerable to these pernicious nauseating pains and spasms.

 

This afternoon, my far too familiar nausea-inducing nagging pains, emanating from the armpit and apparently gnawing through bone and muscle down through biceps to wrist, vengefully returned. A combination of painkillers and splint type wrist supports eventually alleviated this as I rested on the sofa. And so I come to post this, in the hope that at least some of my words convey their intended meaning.

 

Communique ends.

ailing and rejoicing

It seems really strange how quickly the days, weeks, months and even years, scurry by! I often think of how little I manage to do each day, and yet, time still manages to pass almost too quickly for comfort. Even on days where my sundry ailments are crying havoc, and I wish the pain and discomfort would quickly pass, I can never wish the day to end as I look forward to my OH’s return from work. I wish the ailments would disappear but not the day.

 I appreciate every moment of my existence, the piscine activity in aquarium and pond, the birds visiting our garden but, most importantly,  the more time I can spend with my beloved the better; each moment of life is to be savoured and I give thanks that I still have the ability to appreciate it.

As I write I’m sitting in comfort at the fireside, listening to Berlioz’s Overture to King Lear (courtesy of Radio 3) and, casting an eye over the garden; I never thought multi-tasking was something I could manage! My furthest ventures out in recent weeks have been to the local shops and, on one occasion, the extra few minutes trudge to see my doctor.

Even after 8½ years, since succumbing to this illness, I still find it difficult to accept that I can no longer take a “proper” walk! I can at least manage many things better than was the case in the not too distant past. As long as I remember to PACE myself, take appropriate medication, and feel and express gratitude for all life’s blessings (including the ministrations of my physiotherapist – herself a PwME – as she applies the acupuncture needles ), I do experience reasonably long periods when many of the symptoms appear to have gone into remission.

I am currently battling (unsuccessfully for the past six to eight weeks) with acute, although spasmodic, pains in the hip and left lower limb joints and muscles. Externally applied Ibuprofen gel had barely any effect. A thorough examination by my GP, who I saw once these symptoms started interfering further with an already erratic pattern of unrefreshing sleep, left me feeling rather more bruised and battered. He prescribed 2 x Co-codamol 15/500 to be taken (in alternate doses) with my usual 2 x 50ml tramadol and the usual pre-bedtime amitriptyline.

 So far the results are not at all promising but, tomorrow I’ll be going to the District Hospital for a hip X-Ray and blood tests, and the possibility of a further scan.

Although I initially thought it may just be a bout of sciatica, rather than a recurrence of my herniated disc problem, I’m no longer prepared to self-diagnose.

As I continue writing the Red Kite has entered my field of vision, circling just beyond our garden boundary. I’m quite surprised to see it today as conditions are wet and blustery. At lower level, blue tits, coal tits, and a robin have been visiting our feeders.

This evening, emotional and physical stamina permitting, I’m hoping to attend the AGM of our local Labour Party.

I rejoice and am glad in this day the Lord has made.

Rare day

 One of those rare sunshiny bright (albeit chilly) mornings drew me up the garden (lack of) path. Task one was to net out kilos of fallen leaves from the pond, and applying same to garden borders. That task completed, I set to refilling our sundry bird feeders to add a further gleam to my nascent halo!

 

Such was the sun’s effect on my morale that, once back in the house, I forgot to turn the fire on until the chill had begun to gnaw its way into my corporeal being. It wasn’t too long after that when the old familiar aches and pains began to make a negative impression on my sense of well-being. It wasn’t long before the aches in arms and feet induced feelings of nausea. Next thing, a light-headed giddiness hit in as an accompaniment to a sudden, simultaneous, onset of dyspepsia and flatulence.

 

Wrists strapped and tramadol ingested, I rested a while before swallowing lansoprazole and mebeverine in advance preparation for an early evening meal. Thankfully, the intensity of the muscular pains soon settled to a more manageable level and the nausea discharged itself from my psyche.  

 

As the indigestion settled down a little, I ventured into the kitchen and griddled a couple of oak-smoked salmon fillets, accompanied by a gently spiced stir-fry of red peppers, cherry tomatoes and mushrooms (marinated in a garlic, turmeric, tikka and soy sauce concoction) sprinkled with a few flakes of oak-smoked sea salt.

 

And that was my day … so far!

a joyous combination

A wonderful combination of garden, sunshine, and gentle breeze helps lift the spirits. Having fed the goldfish in the pond, and watered the tomato plants (both in the greenhouse and the great outdoors), a sit down on the garden bench, slightly shaded from the sunshine’s full glare, provided a rich reward.

Birds, bees and butterflies, a kind of fluttering congregation, hovered and winged around in close proximity to me. I couldn’t really say whether they were oblivious to, or acceptingly aware of, my presence. I even enjoyed the shadow play on an adjacent wall, an animated conversation between shadow and light.

It was almost as if this simple celebration boosted the efficacy of the preceding dose of tramadol. If only thinking positive thoughts could provide a cure, today I’d be the healthiest creature on planet earth.

Unfortunately, there are too many occasions when even the necessary stamina for true relaxation is in abeyance.

tidings of discomfort and joy

The gaps between postings seem to be increasing; don’t know why I tell you that, presumably you’d already noticed. Sundry muscular aches and pains almost got the better of me during recent weeks, not so much the intensity of pain (barely halfway up the scale) but rather a disconcerting all pervasive sense of dis-ease. At present it feels as if a generalized discomfort proves more disabling than spasmodic acutely intense pain.

The question constantly arises whether codeine, tramadol or any general painkiller can tackle these dull persistently nagging aches. On occasion simply putting on wrist, elbow and shoulder supports seems to alleviate all but a background purring nausea, at others only the combination of pills and  strappings seem to do the trick.

It’s strange that some nights, following on from a more comfortable day, the discomfort only begins its nagging and gnawing routine when I attempt to settle down to sleep; brief interludes of dream laden sleep interrupt my sadly familiar restlessness. At times I could swear that the amitriptyline is working as a stimulant rather than benefitting me with its supposed gently sedative properties.

For the past several nights I’ve pre-emptively dosed myself with tramadol before retiring au lit but, I’ll never know whether it’s the medications efficacy that grants me a more comfortable (albeit still unrefreshing) night’s rest, or have these nights just happened to be ones that were destined to be more comfortable anyway.

At its worst the discomfort is such that I become nauseatingly ill at ease inside my own skin ….

                                                                                    ***

I’m now beginning to see a reason for not posting; all the preceding spilt out as if I’m having a miserable life whereas in fact I continue to feel rather blessed.

My love for ma belle grows ever deeper and, what’s more, that love is reciprocated. The assurance that one is loved somehow overwhelms life’s more negative aspects, simultaneously building one’s reserves of emotional stamina in readiness for the ongoing struggle for justice and compassion for all.

Having always been of a somewhat gregarious disposition I still, not infrequently, find myself mourning the loss of the ability to socialize (other than on the most modestly minimal scale) but still feel fortunate that I can enjoy all kinds of music and drama via television, radio, and sundry recorded formats. It’s strange the way that sudden unexpected sounds can serve to shatter my nerves, almost crushing the breath out of me, whilst dramatic transitions in a musical score never (or perhaps very rarely) seem to play such a disruptive role.

The garden too is a source of constant delight and refreshment, even when it’s getting a bit out of hand, and the avian activity (viewed from the comfort of a supportive high-backed armchair) is a constant source of pleasure.

Come to think of it, perhaps the reason I’m not posting so regularly is that I’m far too busy appreciating life!

wallowing

much ado about little

The current pleasant weather could prove dangerous!

Yesterday afternoon found me briefly pottering about in the garden; this morning I once again exerted myself (a little) tidying up and, transferring a wonderfully rich humus from the bottom of the composter into a barrow.

At that point it suddenly felt like I was about to hit the wall; it was almost as if I could hear the muscles groan through their sluggish response to every bit of exertion.

Come the afternoon I even ventured out for a little walk!

It would be nice if for once there's no payback.