Remember the pacing I am supposed to be doing????? Take it from me, I have failed this part miserably. I just will not be sensible. I do not think. I am certifiable. Stupid.
And just for good measure, the "get rid of it" is at war with the "waste not" part of me. So we are all balanced and happy and completely calm and measured here at the Casa de la Rocking Chair today. Just peachy.
The day did not start well. I got up and the heavens opened. Rain was the one thing I had not bargained for, and did not need. So all the pancakes were in vain. Eaten with delight, but the carbo-loading was unnecessary because the sheds could not be emptied in the rain. I am a fair weather "sorter".
It did brighten up later, so I started moving logs, and then sort of crushed a finger. This was inconvenient to the extreme, but did I stop and relax and read or twiddle my thumbs??? Did I heck. Did I call the son to come and do the work? What do you think? He was upstairs and I was in the garden. It was too far to walk. I am full of warped logic. Then I decided to sweep the one shed. With a dustpan and brush. Bent double from the waist as I can't kneel. So the hunchback of Notre Dame has nothing on me right now. If I go and relax on the couch, I will still be there tomorrow. Probably for the next 2 weeks.
And then I somehow managed to cook for more than we needed for supper. Remember the waste not bit?? I can now not even summon up a waddle. Groan. Pacing? Moderation? Sense?
I have lost the lot. And the plot.
Excuse me while I hobble off to see if there is any hot water. I need a long soak. And an intravenous dose of common sense.