Yesterday, some poet friends and I drove to Romsey for a poetry collective. I read one that is really a stream of consciousness. Many read or performed humorous poetry, and others more serious or pastural poetry.
When I got home I was very dehydrated, and I began to ache. I had fallen last Friday, so bruises from that were still making themselves known. The venue yesterday was upstairs, but we had break and tea was outside. I clocked up a fair bit of walking, which is the one thing I can’t do a lot of.
So last night I went to bed very early. With lots of fluids. I still ache, but it’s going away. I’ve been struggling to open a pressure washer so I can rid my birch tree of some horrid black things that are eating it’s leaves. It’s good for me to be active when I ache.
Writer and psychologist. My health, a journey with two life shortening diseases 