Persistance

Yesterday’s over-exuberance at lifting heavy plants, and an unwise willingness to let Mr B torture me with a ‘massage’, meant that last night and this morning was a grumpy painful time.  Plans to spend the whole day transforming the garden were shelved in favour of lying around moaning softly and mainlining trashy detective fiction.
 
There was, of course, much housework so that I didn’t feel entirely useless, and CarbBoy fulfilled his pledge to do some garden work every day (chopping down trees) so the garden was not entirely neglected.  This plant, which I've blipped before, has survived being concreted over, decked over and having chicken wire stored over it.  And it still keeps coming despite having no obvious source of water.  It's cousins in other parts of the garden (distributed there in the soil dug out for the terrace) are not doing nearly so well.
 
The painkillers kicked in around lunch time, but hunger drove me to the bad decision to have a really big lunch so that I’d have bags of energy all afternoon.  Somehow I had forgotten that the only consequence of a really big lunch is a really big afternoon nap…
 
A short flurry of admin at the end of the day (including a conversation where I managed to get away with only having to say one word in Spanish), then delivering the good news to the kids that their school bus next year will leave at 7.35 am.  (CarbBoy will be fine, but TallGirl doesn’t normally get up until 7.50, so we may do some practice runs until she gets the hang of it.)

Dinner and a ‘happy birthday’ call to my Dad.  And now trashy detective fiction seems to be calling again…