Grey Dawn

Tree branches and twigs, grey sky, a street lamp partly hidden. Got up for a decaff coffee. Still having trouble sleeping. I half think it’s my toes. I’ve got achy feet and have problems with the weight of the duvet. So I throw the bedding off my feet, then they are too cold. Perhaps I should wear bedsocks, but then won’t they put pressure on my toes? So instead I’m up and about, watching the slow change in light iin the sky, listening to the radio, trying to sit comfortably on an armchair. Playing with my phone. Oh for a decent night’s sleep.

Cracked path

Uneven surface as tree toots push through. Top path around Westport lake, between the lake and the canal. On the left, canal barges were lined up, sometimes occupied, others shuttered. A couple sat on deck chairs, chatting. Wearing warm coats. I think they had cups of coffee to warm themselves.

We carried on round the lakes again, sometimes surrounded by clouds of black flies, sharp ovipositors sticking out their rear ends like massive bee stings. I think they were attracted by the goose droppings on the paths. They were blown on the wind where the breeze pushed across the lake, but came back and surrounded us under the trees in the lee of the wind.

I’m glad I was wearing my glasses and a hat, and I was pleased to be wearing a mask, even though it was not really needed outside.

This week I’ve walked about twenty two miles, slightly less than the week before. But my toes and feet hurt. I’m getting quicker though….

I am a tight knot

Tension, in my body. The more talk about covid the tender I get. Like a mad game of twister I’m tied up in knots. My shoulders, my neck. My hands are tense, even my toes are tense! I ache, I feel like I will explode sometimes. How do I relax. How do I let the tightness in my limbs unfurl. Knots, knotted, tied up in knots… Back, hands, neck, tight.

Feet in lockdown

I’m writing something first incase you don’t like feet…

My chiropodist a appointment was due but I haven’t heard anything. Being diabetic I get them done professionally by the local health centre because of the risk of cutting myself. I can only just reach my toenails. But then I struggle to see what I’m doing. My nails were about 1/3″ long and very uncomfortable, but when I rang I was told that the podiatrist is not seeing anyone. Given my hubby is not very handy or careful, and my sister lives eighty miles away, I ‘had a go’ I’ve just managed to cut them a little and shorten them. Then I found a foot file to take the brittle sharp edges away. I’ve sort of made the image a bit abstract so it doesn’t look as scary. The nails are still quite long… 😕

_20200615_135310