Small steps

I haven’t had a lot of human contact over the last ten days. The only contact I’ve had, has been with two Waitrose delivery drivers and Mirinda on Skype. Today, Les turned up with my Waitrose order, having delivered my order last week.

Les asked how my ankle was. I said it had switched from the left ankle to the right. That’s odd, he said. It’s a right pain in the…ankle, I replied. Les laughed as he leapt back in the van and drove off.

And that was it.

Not that I’m lonely, something Mirinda is concerned about. No. I tend to be like a wounded animal when I’m like this. I don’t want fussing. I just want to crawl into a corner until I’m back to normal.

That’s not to say I could have managed in Sweden last year without Mirinda. She was excellent. But here, in familiar Farnham, I know how to fend and fend I have been doing.

And I’m on the road to recovery. Today, for instance, I managed to drag myself down to the bottom of the garden so I could record some video for Mirinda.

I am only able to see brief glimpses of the Hot Border from the terrace, so it was great getting close.

Of course, in order to get down the back I had to firstly put shoes on. That was a bit of a trial but, fortunately, I still have my old runners which I can almost slip on and off. They are very roomy so weren’t too painful.

Then there was the matter of the steps from the terrace to the path. I managed to create a sort of temporary railing by using a couple of the outside chairs; one on each step. It looked a bit odd but worked a treat.

And so, like a very old man, I scraped my way, slowly to the back of the garden. For the first time in ten days. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to go out the front door and put the rubbish out. The gravel might be a problem but we shall see.

It’s the little victories that keep life interesting.

Managing to get out the back also meant I could collect my dead soldier research materials from my office. This meant I had more to do than watch TV, listen to the radio, provide a lap for Freya and throw the ball for Emma.

Speaking of the girls, while I was researching in the afternoon, they were both seated in the red chair opposite me. It warranted a photo taken underneath the table.

Today felt like life was finally returning to our house. I may never see Les again.

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1 Response to Small steps

  1. Mirinda says:

    Emma still looks beautiful even from under the table. You poor thing! Well at least it’s getting better. 😘 miss you

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