An extra hour in bed.
The last weekend in October, Tod reminds me. The clocks go back. It feels too early. But we are grateful for the rest.
These last weeks have been a struggle. Our trip in September to Chichester disappointed. We went down with Covid - much to our shock. And spent most of our two weeks there sleeping or watching TV. So much for all the plans we had to fill and enjoy our visit!
And the after-effects of the Covid linger, back here in France, as we struggle to find energy to do the simplest of tasks, further complicated by Rona starting a fever (at the moment of unknown cause) and needing consultations at the vets. Antibiotics and injections to bring down her temperature (fingers crossed) seem to be working.
We potter, much as we did in Chichester - short walks with Rona, brief visits to Leclerc, sudoku and crosswords online, and bad TV programmes fill our day. I ask the pharmacist for advice and she finishes my sentence before I do ... still feeling "fatigué". She knows this symptom well and fetches a packet of supplements that I pray work for us.
This is the time of year when I'd hoped to create the garden at Chichester, while the ground is still warm and the rains have started. Max, a young landscape gardener, promises to start work on November 10th and I've booked to go over, hoping that by then the supplements will have worked and I will have the energy to visit garden centres and fight my way to the trees and bushes at the back, past all the Christmas decorations.
In the meantime, my head is filled with greenery and uncertainty: pleached trees? tall bushes? ground cover? roses? As I imagine turning this ...
into this ...
