Nine Feet Underground

In and out the dusty bluebells! (Are they dusty or dusky, that is the question?) Certain aspects of life are following sinuous, meandering routes but I think the destination is still in sight. As the path becomes clearer I will elaborate further in these hallowed ones and zeroes. We're also making plans for Christmas (not Nigel), something revolutionary (for us, if not for Che) for a change which bring much much fun for all of us, or almost all of us. Since last my binary digits (I was going to write bits, but it sounded decidedly odd) graced this virtual paper, sons 1, 3 and I have visited Liverpool as part of birthday celebrations with Q and then visited Salts Mill in Bradford for lunch with my big sis and her husband followed by a tour of the Hockney exhibition (and the bookshop - oops!).  We haven't seen big sis and husband since our mum's funeral, so a face-to-face catch up was overdue.  It was also an opportunity for Q to meet them, so now she's met both my sister...

Up early again, this time so I can do the yoga pranayama session at 7 a.m. Yoga first, shower later. It was great to do the breathing exercises (followed by a few asanas), though I did skip the Kapalabhati, as you're not meant to do it if you've had an operation in the last 6 months.  Must check that out, 'cos surely it depends where the operation was? Although given where my second one was, caution may still be advised. Son #1 is off out to meet his girlfriend in Guildford, so, after yoga, when I came upstairs to shower, it was occupied. This was cool. I decided to do my exercises (press-ups and bicep curls) whilst I was waiting. Son #3 was patiently awaiting my exit from the shower for his turn, so I got ready as quickly as possible and went downstairs to make my breakfast.   The good news is my wife is looking much better and her temperature seems to have dropped (it was 39.1C when the matron came yesterday), so the antibiotics and paracetamol seem to be working...