Nine Feet Underground

Another day confined to barracks. I don't need to go out, other than for exercise, so the way things are (and I read that covid numbers locally continue to increase way too fast), I guess that's how it has to be. As is my custom, I started the day with a yoga breathing session at 7 a.m., still one of the best ways to start a day, fully energising me for...the nothing that lies ahead. It occurs to me that I don't feel in the Christmas spirit yet because I've not been in to an office with decorations and a tree (as I usually would have), nor have I visited (m)any shops(?) with Christmas music playing and people being generally 'festive'. I've been taking part in 'Whamageddon' (see here , if you're unfamiliar), which really hasn't been much of a challenge this year: I think I've only heard one Christmas song, so far, that being 'Christmas Wrapping' by The Waitresses. Assuming I don't put on the Christmas CDs until Christmas Day, ...

A lie-in for a change. I've felt so tired this past week, I thought I'd let my body determine when I got up rather than the alarm. Still up and getting showered by 8:30 a.m. but I felt better for it. I've started doing press-ups and weight lifts (biceps curl) again and plan to re-start yoga tomorrow (the consultant said I could), though I plan to try sitting cross-legged for 5 to 10 minutes just to make sure it feels OK in the stitched area. I'll decide for certain tomorrow. The weather has been somewhat unpredictable so far and I now have to do the washing I didn't do yesterday, though it's not looking like I'll be able to hang it out. The BBC website keeps saying the next hour has a high chance of rain but the one after not, then as the rainy hour passes it then revises its forecast and says the next hour is likely to rain.  I don't reckon it's ever going to say it'll be dry. I read The Observer in between doing chores.  The rain keeps co...