Graham was on shopping duty in Neath with his mother today, so after my chauffeur duty, I hopped on over to Morrison’s for tomatoes, ciggies, and breakfast.
I’d woken all heavy and reluctant this morning, far too close to the General Law of Gravity for comfort, and had almost decided not to do the breakfast trip. It had turned to rain overnight and my joints were not happy chappies, not happy at all. However, having allowed good sense to drive me out, I scoffed my breakfast with a will, and felt much better for it.
Getting back home, I yelled up the stair to Dolly “I’m home. Hang on a minute and I’ll join you for a good restorative nap.”
Which, after checking my email and having a quick ciggie in the garden, is what I did.
During the course of the extended nap, Dolly snuggled closer and closer, until she was fair wrapped around me at 16:00, when I woke, told her and the world at large that I was feeling better again, and poddled down into the kitchen for coffee.
The six steps we call a stairway that separate the living from the sleeping halves of the bungalow are a bonus I’d not expected. It’s more natural to me, somehow, to go up to bed, and down to live. I’ve never much liked mixing the two.
And then, shortly after 17:00, Graham called me over to Rhos to fetch him.
The day is complete. Not exciting, but full of pleasure.
