Yesterday, in relatively mild conditions, Dr B came with me on a 15-Km training walk, a loop along our nearby riverside park. I appreciated his company and was most impressed by his efforts, particularly as he’s one who’s normally far more comfortable on a bicycle. He was silly enough to point out at one stage that, had we been on bikes, we could have been to the city and back again in the time it took us to walk about halfway. He might have been, I had to remind him, but I’d be a tattered and bloody mess and still at the beginning, having already fallen too many times to feel confident of continuing. So we walked and, as a concession to his weary legs, caught a bus home for the last uphill bit.
Today the weather is distinctly wintry, so he’s been clearing the last of the grapevine prunings and is presently off listening to pub bands. I’m achieving nothing I would like to – any sort of crafting work – and not much that I’m meant to – though dinner didn’t magic itself into the oven any more than the laundry hung itself on the indoor line – but tomorrow is a working day and I’ve reached the point of believing that it’s more important to get a good night’s sleep than to finish knitting anything, no matter its urgency.
Is that heresy? I fear so. Better hang me, then 🙂 I hope your prospects are cheerier, whatever your weather or crafting tendency.