I've not been outside since arriving home on Saturday, three and a half days ago, but I am very glad it is summer, and the August weather isn't too capricious. The sun has been out, flirting with fluffy clouds and a healthy breeze. The leaves have been almost constantly moving, on the rowan tree in the garden, and across the road on The Bank. The memory of the trees I used to play in as a child so strong that every time I look out, the regrown tree seems misshapen. It must have been regrowwn for twenty years now, but I still think of the curved fork in the trunk, and am reminded of the omnipresent nature of change.
I am getting around OK now. Still honing my technique on the crutches - yesterdays efforts rubbed up a sore patch of skin on my wrist - but I am much more mobile now than when I first practiced on Friday, three hours after the operation. Lifting tins of baked beans around at different angles to build up some arm strength, so I am not taking all my weight in my armpits. Today I find that I can get off the bed almost one handed, using the left just to steady me as I come upright.
The sun is behind me now, as I have moved to the cooler back room. I've a new throne of armchair, footstool, towel-clad plank as a table for laptop and phone, and coffee table beside me; a small pile of books within reach. The sun is starting again each day, picking myself up and making physical efforts. Making mental efforts in order to make physical efforts. Setting myself little goals for the day, without planning myself into orderliness and frustration. Today, I need to think about the WordCloud August competition - 400 words on the sea...
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