It’s been said many times by many people, but the body is a miraculous thing. It heals itself. If we let it. It is often slower than we would like but it does. My arm is getting better. I am doing more than I could with it than last week, even yesterday. But there are times when it still aches, hurts and throbs, mostly when I am tired. But it wants to get better. It wants to do what it did. It wants me to be able to stand on my head, to reach up to the skies, to put my arms behind my back, to turn off a light switch, chop up a sweet potato, and feel strong again. It wants this. But I must be patient. Always.
The mornings have been cold these last few days. No matter, the air is fresh and clean and the sea is marvellous.
Half the flat clean (our new Dyson only lasts that long, bless it). Now there is work to do. Tea for me, coffee for him, letters and then Austen. And then sun. Hopefully.