Mop

The little highland calf was scratching her head against one of the trunks of the big sycamore tree in Redhills Pasture (note the fragments of mosses in her locks). She does have an impressive and tousled head of hair, and she could see me through her fringe by angling her head slightly.

The morning started brightly, I was at the surgery early to be bled for the latest analyses. I should get the results tomorrow ahead of a hospital appointment next week. The results will be of particular interest five weeks on from the last and now nearly seven weeks since the chemo finished. I'm hoping to see some recovery in my immune system. It was gratifying to be told by the nurse at the surgery that I was looking much better, with colour in my cheeks, than I had been the last time she saw me before the treatment started.