It’s hard to tell if I had a reaction to my seasonal ‘flu jab, yesterday afternoon, or if I’m still suffering the after effects of the digestive problem I reported yesterday morning. Either way it’s mild and nothing out of the ordinary. I have bad days. I have good days. I’ve learned to live with it.
I’m told that I will be called for my swine ‘flu jab some time in early December which is fine by me. I don’t like the idea of having two lots swimming around in my system at the same time.
It’s quiet in all other regards. Graham has washed all the windows. I’ve been noodling at a new poem. Dolly has decided it’s too chilly out for a self-respecting mega cat who’s been robbed of great clumps of her coat. And there’s a bloke across the road doing something noisy and protracted with a power tool of some kind.
Normal for Neath, I think it fair to say.
