Some of us may be old enough to remember a Simon & Garfunkle song called Wednesday morning 3 am. That's the significance of the title of today's post.
I woke several times during the night and checked that it hadn't snowed any more. Chris has/had to drive to Harlow for 7.00 this morning and so went last night. I spoke to him a couple of times and he'd loaded up but so far was unable to get out of Harlow because the lorries were stuck on the hill leading to the M11. If he hadn't made any progress by lunchtime I suggested that he go back to the depot, unload and try to get home. It hasn't snowed more than a few flurries so far today.
I decided to walk to the local shop to buy a paper, about 200 yards each way. It's the furthest I've travelled in days. Boy am I stiff from inactivity. My hips just seem to lock up. I'm walking around the house to try and keep supple, and Chris is arranging for a treadmill later in the week. My brain is still active, I gotta keep my body active as well.
I had an email from a friend yesterday to say that I'm scheduled to play a set at a charity all-day festival in March. If I juggle the diary by a few days I should be able to do it and then have my last dose of chemo the following week. I'm playing my guitar most days. If I don't, my fingers lose their callouses, and then it's painfull to play.
I shall be posting on my other blog as well today