Non-stop

As I sat up in bed this morning, drinking tea and watching the pink sky of dawn begin to lighten, I thought all I actually had to do was get to my Pilates class without my usual lift ...

If only.

This was the reality: Getting to class was the easy bit. Himself drove me there, so I didn't even have to wait in the street. The class was tiny - 4 of us only - with people on holiday and other less enjoyable things - and we caught up on Who Shot the Wild Pigs saga. Himself came for his class after mine; I drove home, hung out the towels I'd washed, had coffee and went back to pick him up again. I defrosted some rather fine soup for lunch - it's always quite a lottery what it turns out to be - and we'd just finished it when the gas man came to refit older fire which needed re-sealing to the surround. Meanwhile Himself had nipped along the lane to leave the car to be valeted, so I had to look after the gas man for a bit.

Because we couldn't use the room where the fire was being mended, I found myself watching a bit of the football, but dragged myself off to write a sermon for Sunday. It was surprisingly hard to get my thoughts in any sort of coherent whole, and I found myself frozen and headachy by the time I stopped and did some Italian. I did a short burst of the physio exercises, reasoning that as we'd already done some of them in the morning that would count. 

My head still hurt, and my eyes were nipping. The house felt cold - all these doors opening and the rising wind outside didn't help - and I didn't know if I felt sick or hungry. I made a dish of Ramen with some of yesterday's chicken, some ginger in the miso tare, and some wilted spinach. Very slurpy and antisocial, but comfort food with a vengeance. And then I subsided in front of the telly and managed to watch another whole episode of Babylon Berlin before falling asleep over the news. 

I know the news was bad - earthquakes and the NHS - but I simply couldn't stay awake.

And now the first of the flashing houses across the road has been covered in blue and white flashing lights and it's a whole month before Christmas. I give up. 

Blipping the view of the Holy Loch through the trees of the award-winning Hunter's Quay Holiday Village, which is where the Pilates studio now is. I was in the car waiting for Himself. Even a big award-winning park is a pretty dreary place at this time of year ...