Yesterday I was emboldened to do some washing up. With the tall stool by the sink, I manfully (ha ha) got stuck into the breakfast crockery, taking care to keep everything in one piece. Later in the day I chopped and onion, diced some carrot and crushed some garlic before gently frying them and adding the puy lentils once they had softened. All very gentle, all very sedentary. This morning however it feels as though I ran a marathon. So much for being useful. Was it the pure energy of being occupied? No! It was the short bursts of getting up abd down to check on things at the cooker. Turning things off, taking the rolls out of the oven and going to the fridge to uncork and pour wine. Why do we always fall into the trap of saying “while I can I will”, then feeling it the next day? At least the sun is shining and I’m listening to Haydn.
Be careful out there!