Catkins

Catkins on a pussy willow tree, a sure sign that Spring is on its way. The fuzzy silver catkins are still saturated with water after yesterday's non-stop rain.

Not feeling 100%, with one of those conditions treatable at a pharmacy without seeing a GP. Or so I thought, but then I'd never read the small print the NHS Pharmacy First ads. Paying attention to adverts has never been one of my strong points! Having traipsed down to the pharmacy I discovered that I'm above the age-limit for the pharmacist to provide treatment. (And, in any case, apparently his staff haven't yet had the appropriate training...)

Luckily I managed to make a same-day appointment with a GP, but not until late afternoon, so I walked back up the hill and was well in time for delivery of a supermarket order.

Tackled a few chores before walking to the surgery, then to a different pharmacy to pick up a 5-day course of antibiotics. Nipped into a supermarket en route to buy some probiotics in the hope of avoiding the almost inevitable consequences of taking the antibiotics. Finally, home.

Shattered, but the step counter is happy!