Bookish

The Occupational Therapist I’m seeing has a theory that reading might be a canary in the coal mine for me. Just before the proper fatigue strikes my ability to absorb what I’m reading disappears. I have to give up. A day or so later I’m knackered. Similarly, on the way up and out of it, I can start reading again. As I finished a Donal Ryan book yesterday and started a new one while I was waiting to pick up Ruby from work, I hope she’s right.

Earlier, I’d set a mushroom stroganoff away in the slow cooker and olive bread in the bread maker so the house was smelling great and dinner was ready as soon as we got in.