I'm reading "I Haven't Been Completely Honest With You" by Miranda Hart,
the story of how she found her way through a time of being in a state of complete physical collapse. The was caused by having undiagnosed Lyme Disease since her early teens, and spending decades battling on and pushing through the endless illnesses that plagued her afterwards. It's a fascinating account of how she had to learn to just stop and cease fighting, and what she discovered along the way.
She quotes the second part of this poem by Dorothy Hunt, and I thought I would share the whole poem with you.
We met the kitchen fitter today... he's starting on Monday and reckons he'll be done by the end of the week!
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