Friday 21st February - Foraging

I have been told that it is not the steroids that make you gain weight, it's the way that they act on your appetite that creates the problem.

Friday was what I call an "eating day". Every so often I have one of those days when I graze and nibble and finish off and tidy up and clear away everything - the biscuits in the tin, the last piece of cake, a couple of cherry tomatoes, something left in my weekly "graze box", a couple of handful's of breakfast cereal, another helping of cereal because that last bowlful tasted so good, ah, who left that chocolate sitting there?

It won't do.

Those crusts of bread look so untidy cluttering up the breadboard. Now, with a little bit of butter and honey...

Oddly enough, I was feeling a bit peculiar by the time I went to bed. A bit rumbly-in-the-tummy.

Tomorrow's another day.

Saturday 22nd February - A Proper Start to the day

It's been half term all the past week.

On Monday I caught the the 7.30 am train to London (and as I stood swaying in the carriage, propped upright by the other passengers, I remembered why I usually caught the 7 am train)

On Tuesday I had a routine blood test at 8am. This is a good time to go; the car park is empty, you are at the front of the queue, and there's plenty of time to get to work afterwards. Oh, but it's half term. I'm on holiday.

On Wednesday I had to be up and dressed ready for a home delivery, due sometime between 8 am and 12 am. It arrived at 11:45.

On Thursday I didn't have anything fixed for first thing - but still got up anyway to make my husband's packed lunch. It seems only fair, when he is working and I am not.

On Friday I was teaching at 9 am, so had to be up and dressed and looking tidy.

Everyday there was an impediment to having a decently lazy start to the day.

Today. Ah, today. The first event is scheduled for 10:15, and in a minute I will have to go upstairs and get dressed and ready. Until then, I have been sitting in peace and quiet; no television, no radio. Just me, my husband nearby, breakfast, "real" coffee, a National Trust magazine to browse...
the warmth of the sun on the back of my head, last weekend's flowers from a friend and my husband casting interesting shadows....
the gentle ticking of the clock....

It won't last. The rest of the day involves visiting my parents, going to a local wedding, probably doing the weekly shopping, preparing for Sunday School tomorrow, and thinking about the week ahead.
  

Thursday 20th February - Here I am again!

After that last post, I took some time off - on Thursday 13th February I was just about to set off for the usual teaching at a local village school, when suddenly my legs turned to jelly and I "came over all peculiar".

It didn't take me long to decide that marching around with the samba band, followed by a couple of class music lessons, recorder lessons and ukulele club would be a Very Bad Idea.

So, I rang in sick, and went to the Doctor. She kindly explained to me that "resting" meant doing "nothing that requires concentration". She then went through my plans for the rest of the week and half term, vetoed most of them and sent me away to Rest. Ah. So I have taken her advice and have  been resting. Sort of.

I did go up to London on Monday for a routine check-up (with the Doctor's permission). In spite of the remains of the chest infection, my test results all look reasonably good. That's me pronounced ok (once my chest is clear) for the next six months by that clinic. I'm still feeling a bit bruised from a ruthless echo-cardiogram. "Sorry, I get a better picture when I press harder, and sometimes I forget that it is a real person there". Yes. I can vouch for that! She also had a habit of telling me to "breathe in and hold your breath", but not say when I could take another breath.
Or else "breathe out and "hold........................................................" which isn't any better. I survived.

On Tuesday and Wednesday various friends that I have not had a chance to meet up with for months and months came round, for coffee or, lunch.

Today I drove through appalling rain to meet friends for lunch and discuss a Lent project that we will be running together. Over lunch the weather cleared and the sun was blinding me by the time we had reached the coffee stage.

I drove back into Spring - catkins, the size of fluffy golden lamb's, tails brighten the hedgerows and big fat fluffy pussy-willows are out.

Once home, I discovered that the anenomes by the front door have come to the conclusion that it is safe to come out. More daffodils are appearing every day.

Let it rain! I have seen the future, and it is all blue skies and purple and yellow flowers.

Wednesday February 12th - The Early Daffodils

Here they are!

If you want to see them, take the High Beeches Road from Handcross, past High Beeches Gardens and Tea Rooms (open every day except Wednesday, more's the pity, because Wednesday is my day for travelling in this direction). By the water tower there is a turning off to the right to Balcombe, and the daffodils are on that corner. I've not had a chance to see them this year before now, because I've been taking the long way round to Ardingly on the assumption that the back road over the hills and down by the reservoir would be flooded.
A reasonable assumption, considering the fact that the High Beeches Road has several very deep puddles covering over half the road (usually on a blind bend after a long straight stretch, which adds to the adrenalin-filled driving of the year to date) and the reservoir road is bound to be worse.

However, this Wednesday, although I had already decided not to risk the reservoir road yet, I caught sight of the daffodils and detoured to take a picture. These are always the first ones that I see every year. BUT, having gone into the lane, I couldn't turn round, and was committed to carry one to Balcombe. The road was very wet, but better than High Beeches Road. I stopped at the Balcombe Tea Rooms for coffee and a toasted teacake and asked about the reservoir road. No-one had been that way, so I bottled out and took a long and tortuous route, including a deep puddle under the Balcombe Railway Viaduct, several properly sharp and steep corners and some sudden potholes the size of a baby's bath. Another unexpectedly "thrilling" drive.

It's am impressive structure.

    I was assured by the staff at the Ardingly school that the reservoir road was "fine" and that the flooding problems (which I had experienced last year) were "all sorted now". Yeah. Right. There was a torrential cloudburst for about half an hour in the afternoon, and I should have paid more attention but I was imposing my will upon forty children at the time.

After I had won finished teaching, I set off up the hill, past the lovely little church, out of Ardingly, and down the hill to the reservoir, and up the hill towards Lullings, and down the hill to the mill, and up the hill again into Balcombe.

I found myself driving through muddy rushing streams which continually crossed the steep twisty lane, the water pausing here and there to gouge more gravel out of the potholes along the way. From time to time there were little lakes in the valley bottoms, or at random corners halfway up the hills. The road wasn't exactly impassable, after all, I got home without anything too terrifying happening. I've driven through a lot worse and survived. But it was not FINE.

So the daffodils will probably be over before I go that way again.

Friday 14th February - Knitting

This wasn't the kind of knitting of the "Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care"  type. (Macbeth Act 2 Sc 2, for those of you who don't feel like googling).

More like the stuff of nightmares - I must have unravelled as much as I ravelled when making these squares.

I made them all over the last week and weekend, when I was off work with the kind of chest infection which doesn't make me feel ill, but means I am supposed to take it easy.

So, I took most of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday off, (did a bit of piano teaching in the evening,  because, compared to class teaching, that's not really "work"), and went out for lunch at Wagamama on Saturday (ginger chicken udon - yum yum) and a brief tour of Waitrose.

Then, because it would be really inconvenient if I were not able to work on Monday (I was going to be Observed, and also it's a been a bit tight squeezing in the contracted number of sessions this term), I tested my stamina by doing Sunday School - that went OK, so I decided that  was better.

Back to work on Monday then.

Meanwhile, through the long tedious hours of daytime TV and radio and so forth, I completed five squares of the patchwork blanket project, started nearly two years ago, and lying fallow for months.

 
I seem to have used up nearly all of the bright coloured yarn, and have mainly blue and khaki left. Time for a trip to the wool shop.

Oh. I forgot. I'm supposed to be resting. Again. Because, yesterday, Thursday, I started to load the car ready for samba and ukulele and recorder and class teaching, and suddenly my legs turned to jelly, and I realised that I was not going to be able to strut my stuff with my samba drum and my samba whistle, or whang out a tune on my uke. So I rang in sick, and went back to the Doctor.

She said I should REST. As in DO NOTHING. I whinged about piano teaching not being real work, but she was insistent that anything that requires CONCENTRATION is work. So that definitely rules out knitting. The sixth square will have to stay on the needles for another couple of days.

I've gone back to bed, with laptop, mobile phone, Kindle, tray for tea-making - everything I need to a low-concentration day. This has made the Uptairs Cat very, very happy.

Thursday 6th February - Staying In

Today I'm not teaching samba, or class music, or recorders, or ukulele club. I have cancelled tonight's piano teaching, and all tomorrow's teaching.

I'm tucked up in bed, with a tea-tray, and my lap-top computer and mobile phone and Kindle and radio (and the cat) for company and entertainment, feeling that I really should be at work.

I feel a complete fraud; I've been told NOT to go into work and to REST. But I feel ok, not Properly Ill at all.

I've a chest infection; probably as a result of the disgusting head cold I had all last week. I cancelled one school last week, but taught everything else. The problem with the kind of chest infections that I seem to be prone to is that they don't make me feel ill - just a bit breathless, a bit lacking in stamina. I can keep going for weeks - have done so in the past. Unless I take myself to a doctor and get checked out, I don't realise that I've got one. Or, in this case, another one. This is something that I'm going to have to watch; the combination of my dodgy lung function, and the immune system suppressing drugs that I am taking, will make me vulnerable to chest infections from now on.

However, my Lent resolution (which I am getting into training for) is to Do What I Am Supposed To Do. Things like obeying speed limits, completing forms for work by the due date, not overstaying parking tickets, answering emails, and, today's challenge, following the doctor's advice.     

Still it could be a lot worse. I could be feeling ill instead of just a tad guilty. I'll just have to make the best of things - tea, radio, reading, daytime tv.....

Saturday 1st February - Soup for lunch

We had soup for lunch - beef and potato.

Peel, dice and boil a medium potato (4 minutes in the microwave)

Defrost one of the little freezer pots of left-over gloop from a crock pot of beef stew. I always save the liquid for soup as there's always plenty left over when we have fished out the meat and veg. (2 minutes in the microwave)

Empty in the the last few shreds of pulled beef remaining in the bottom of a freezer bag (This is the lamb version of the recipe - just substitute some kind of beef joint - topside, maybe - for the lamb)

Add a handful of frozen peas

Heat that lot together (couple more minutes in the microwave)

Check the seasoning, add more boiling water if too thick or not enough for the both of us.

Slurp.

Saturday 1st February - For the first time since...

For the first time since I cannot remember when, we have a Saturday, and maybe even a Sunday as well, of doing absolutely nothing beyond the bare minimum required for health and hygiene. I think it was probably back in October, or maybe even August, that we last had time like this.

We are not going anywhere, doing anything, arranging anything, planning anything. We are not scheduling, clock-watching, list-making, checking, measuring, mending, fetching or carrying.

We have both had ferocious and horrible head colds all week, spending the nights waking each other up by turns with coughing and snoring and snorting. And neither of us took much in the way of time off - I did cancel one school on Wednesday morning, as running a samba lesson for forty-three children, on my own, with no speaking voice, was beyond me. So, after five days of relentless willpower, we have zonked out. We have spent the day so far in reading, messing about on the computer or phones, watching daytime tv, listening to the radio. We have hardly spoken to each other - anyway, he has a sore throat, so it would be cruel to try converse.

I'm feeling a lot better. He's improving.

There is food in the freezer. I'll do an on-line grocery shop later to set us up for next week.

Tomorrow I'll be better enough to go in and play the organ for the 9am church service, and that's all I'm thinking of doing.

Meanwhile, it's the first day of Spring. We have had sunshine and rainbows as well as rain. Next door's garden is full of crocusesses.

 

There is the promise of an anemone in one of the pots by the front door.

 

 

We are having a blissfully peaceful day. It feels almost like a holiday.