When the Wind Blows
Fresh air has been in short supply recently. This has been caused by a combination of exhaustion, rain, a recurrence of Pete’s Knee and more rain.
The tandem is sitting forlornly under its covering and the archery field is probably a quagmire (I admit, I’ve not been able to get near it in the last couple of weeks). The nearest I get to nature is peering anxiously over my imperceptibly growing spring bulbs.
So, any dose of fresh air has consisted of the few yards from house to car on the way to work or, more acceptably, to meet up with a friend in a cafe. Mind you, today those few yards were quite exciting enough! The gusts of wind and slaps of rain were definitely refreshing!
At least the wild weather has coincided with a bout of enforced rest. Not that you really care when you’re too tired to move; when the walk to the kitchen to make a cup of tea is a walk too far and the top of the stairs feels like the top of a mountain.
The trickier bit I find, though, is when you’re starting to feel that little bit better, and you start being tempted to do some mild activity. My downfall was to think that baking some buns was a good idea. It wasn’t. Back to bed!
So I am watching the rain batter the windows whilst sitting safely behind them, and listening to the wind howl round the house whilst pulling my cosy cardigan round me and huddling up close to the fire. I do not wish to be walking on the moors, no not at all.