Not Drowning but Waving ….

I feel a little like these daisies, surviving despite being somewhat bruised and battered, bent over but still flowering. Their tiny petals wave  like anemone tentacles in rock pools; with apologies to Stevie Smith -   ‘Not Drowning, but Waving’.  

Today is a day of recovery and rest, enjoying the restorative balms of home and garden. I sleep well; it’s a relief both to be horizontal in a comfortable bed and to be free of constant pain  - though obviously I’m very sore. 

The day is spent mostly back on the conservatory sofa, though I do some gentle work helping G prepare the house for the boys who will be with us this weekend. I have a longstanding lunch booked for today in Bryn Williams’ restaurant by the sea; of course I’m not up to that and it is postponed until another time, but my friend visits here instead and we chat which is a delightful diversion. 

And the weather’s kind - sunshine instead of the promised rain - which means a little wander in the garden with my camera is a joy. 

In yet another example of our nation’s sorry state, Simon messages from their train which has just set off from London; it will terminate at Crewe, the onward journey towards Holyhead abandoned as they cannot find a driver! G offers to set off to pick them up by car, but fortunately they manage to find connections that will get them here some 75 minutes later than scheduled. It’s so lovely to see them. 

Thank you so much for all your kind thoughts, sympathies, shared rants and even hearts in response to yesterday’s blip. I will respond to all and catch up with your journals in due course.