Found on our Doorstep

If the rainbows young kids paint and draw
Could but heal, we'd no longer endure
This disease in our midst,
Seven colours the grist
Of a powerful, magical cure.

© Celia Warren 2020

I saw a woman I didn't recognise making door to door deliveries yesterday. When I went to look, I found this little flat pebble painted in rainbow colours. (Probably decorated by children, I'm guessing.) What a kind gesture to deliver them around our estate!

After two more restless nights I had a migraine today, whose intensity Migraleve hugely reduced, thank goodness. Mr PP waited to see if I'd feel like going for a walk later in the day, but in the end I didn't, so he went alone. But I did do pottering stuff and worked through the headache that way: cleaned another window, inside and out, vacuumed everywhere (easy in a bungalow), peeled veggies, emptied bins, and loaded recycling sacks for tomorrow's collection. And wrote this limerick! Only a faint headache now and I bet that will disappear when I sit down and eat the lovely meal that Mr PP's cooking.

Hope poor BoJo makes a full recovery. His experience in intensive care should certainly make him appreciate the NHS; he could emerge a changed man. I think he tried to keep going too long and hard, as he did look very poorly the last time he appeared at the door of No. 10.

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