Wednesday 22nd February 2017

It is only when we are getting better, do we maybe realise how ill, or how shitty we have felt. And indeed, so it came to pass yesterday evening, that my sciatica did pass, and so I no longer have partially numb legs and shuffle around like an old bloke. No, I shuffle around like a middle aged one instead. But, and I won't go into details here, after an event, the sciatica did pass, and I am now able to go up and down stairs with no trouble, stand whilst cooking and not getting back ache. And so on.

But before then, I did still feel crappy. That getting to the post office on Tuesday seemed such an effort, I wondered how on earth I used to walk into Folkestone without thinking much of it. Anyway, let us hope I never have to speak of it again.

It is so light in the morning, with clear blue skies, it appeared almost full light at six in the morning when I was woken up by Scully jumping back on the bed after being fed. Jools had gotten up a few minutes before without disturbing me. Anyway, I can smell coffee brewing, and that means I need to get up.

Just the usual stuff to report on: coffee, breakfast, more coffee, listening to the radio. And then work. I catch up on the electronic mail, update spreadsheets, make calls and the usual stuff. Been quite a good week at work, a nice steady stream of mails without become a torrent or avalanche. Just steady.

I put a free ad up on Facebook so we could get shot of the old sofa bed. I liked it, but as we only used it as a bed, it seemed sense to actually get a bed instead. I was reluctant to get rid of it, I suggested to keep it intitially for those who said were coming to the beer festival, and then to use it in the shelter. But then every one dropped out of coming over, and it became clear that it wasn't practical to use it, or store the mattress outside. So, a coulple came round to collect it, it was mostly dismantled, but I had to take apart the subframe so they could get it in their Astra. And then it was gone, much more room in the bathroom where we had stored it.

Looking in the garden, it seems the fruit canes are just still sticks. But not dead sticks, and in the beds we dug 18 months ago, the Fritillaria imperialis are sprouting already, and as last year, growing at a remarkable rate. Not all beds have them showing, but I'm sure we will soon have a fine showing, and so spring is getting ever nearer. Wildlife ponds needs topping up with rain water, just the usual stuff.

With the weather forecast is for storms on Thursday, I try to batten down the garden, protecting that which could be blown over, the most suspect was the footballer's wives fountain. I prop it up with two large pot plats, hoping that those and the reservoir of water would keep it upright. Job done, I check the mails, and then take to the sofa to rest my poor back, watching some Time Team whilst Molly keeps me company once again. In this way the afternoon passes, and by the time I stand up to feed the cats, the day was fading outside.

Jools is coming home with fish and chips, so I just have to butter a couple of slices of bread, make sure the kettle is freshly brewed for drinks, and other than wait, I have the radio on and am dancing round the living room to Madonna tunes.

She comes home at quarter past six, filling the house with the smell of freshly fried food and that mix of salt and vinegar fumes which there is no other way to get.

You will not be surprised to learn there is more football on the radio, indeed I could have watched it on TV, if we had BT Sport, which we don't. Plans are coming together for the holiday to Skye, with an alternative plan now for the car hire. News of that when all is confirmed. But the holiday is getting close, as so is the arrival of a certain ex-Olympic cyclist who will join us on the adventure to bonnie Scotland. Much more of that when it happens, I can assure you.