So now that I’m recovered from the lurgy (more or less) I am beginning to get more done around the house. I’m not yet in the same league as James, who goes out for a 9 km walk every morning before breakfast and then labours in the garden for six hours. He has sanded and oiled all of the garden benches, sanded and painted my Dad’s sack barrow (which also converts into a trolley), dug the vegetable beds, finished building a new path and seeded it with grass. He has also given the grass its first cut of the year.
Since yesterday I have been tackling the housework again, starting with all three bathrooms. I have never been so delighted to clean them, it’s great to feel well enough. Today I was cleaning floors and dusting, and I popped out for some groceries. The supermarket is almost back to normal for stock, although I couldn’t get any flour for James to do his baking.
I have been listening to another true crime podcast recommended by Jamie’s housemate Louis; this one about a murder in West Cork in 1996. It’s fascinating and very thought-provoking. I have been listening to it while pacing about Cambuslang Park on my one permitted daily walk, usually in the afternoon. And I’m now two thirds of the way through The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel. I’m hoping to get into more of a routine over the next few days as I build up my strength.
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