listening to the whispering voices

There’s been some whispering round here lately that I might have been overdoing it. Some of those whispers have come from my own body, which decided that it Did Not Like travelling all the way to Manchester, then London, then York, in the space of four days, oh no, and would quite like a day or two lying on the sofa doing nothing please. More whispers have come from my boss, who suggested that saying no occasionally was A Good Thing. And then there’s whispers from Peter, and friends, and colleagues, and probably even random people in the street, all telling me that I’m not quite better yet (although I’m getting there!) and should probably stop trying to act like I’m working perfectly normally.

It’s pretty noisy round here with all that whispering.

And so I find myself, this gloriously sunny Saturday morning, contemplating an afternoon of doing Not Very Much. For the next 2 hours at least, I shall be sat in the sunlight, on a stripey blanket, propped up against the sofa, surrounded by magazines, library books, the local paper, a notebook and pen, the laptop, camera, my knitting and, of course, tea and WI cake. I might knit, I might read, and I might just soak up the sunshine and watch the bluetits bobbing in and out of the nesting box.

And – get this – I’ve even got the top of the stable door open, it’s that sunny.

Might have to close it again soon, my hands are going numb, but it’s the first time it’s been open this year… spring’s on its way…

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