Not girly flowers ...

... but a metaphor.

Just as these little guys are thrusting themselves out through the bars of their fenced-in confinement, so will I get to the end of my post-surgery recuperation and once again lead a normal life. (For some reason, a great many of the things I see around me during my get-out-there-and-walk moments are giving me this same message. I guess that just proves how single-minded we can be when we're faced with an unforeseen situation.)

I managed to get a walk in before the heavy rain shower arrived at lunch time. A good walk it was too. Longer again, and easer going. The simple rule of thumb given to me by one of the physiotherapists whose hands I've been through is 'You should be slightly out of breath, but still be able to carry on a conversation.' I need to stretch myself a bit during the coming week, since the out-of-breathness hasn't really been there yesterday or today. Of course, maybe that's because I've been stopping too often to do a bit of blipping.