Writing into Life, more
I woke this morning to the sound of heavy shredding. Contractors next door were clearing the house of ivy and putting it through a machine. I could almost hear the walls of the house breathe a sigh of relief, as they were exposed to fresh air and sunshine for the first time in years.
Ivy can look attractive – I have set some to grow up and around the front wall and railings of our house – but it needs to be cut back heavily and regularly, otherwise it just takes over.
With my cold still working its way through, I took Lydia for a shorter walk this morning than we usually do, then headed back to bed.
She didn’t seem to mind the shorter walk – she’s such a treasure – and came up to join me in the bedroom, so we’ve both just snoozed and rested on what is, outside, a grey damp day. Fortunate then, to be warm and comfortable at home with nothing much to do other than boil up some chicken bones to make stock for soup that Trev is going to be making later.
Tomorrow I will be more active; today I’m not.
Glad About 