I get it every couple of months or so. It passes. This time it hurts, no doubt compounded with the other thing, that I am loathe to name, that now resides in both my hips. Walking has been stripped of some of its pleasure. I like to be out, that is always good, but my legs are stiff hobbledehoys. Iron grinds against iron. I wait to hear the clanging. It is a graceless business. But, as I say to myself constantly now, at least I can still do it, get out there, be out there and on my own steam.
And now I must write…..
