the best laid plans

After that wonderful Early Bird morning and subsequent day,
( bird talk – not quite up with the larks ), I fully expected  a decent nights sleep to follow. My hopes and expectations were drastically thwarted; I remained resolutely awake and alert throughout the nocturnal hours, sleep only arriving after 8.30am and, spasmodic
at that. As a result, my emergence from the duvet realm (yesterday) did not
occur until 11.30am; the rest of the day witnessed little action from yours
truly until mid-afternoon when I gathered a few windfall apples, raked and
grazed the ground (including the longer grasses intrusive moss underlay) in the
more wildlife friendly area of the garden and, gathered a few tomatoes from the
greenhouse plants.

The evening was spent basking in the company of ma belle,
listening to some music before watching ‘Doc Martin’. By 10.00pm I was most
decidedly shattered, even omitting the teeth cleaning ritual prior to hitting
the sack. Almost immediately upon my head sinking into the pillow I was wrapped
in slumber. Sound sleep, with a few intermittently vibrant dreams, ensued until
after 7.00am. Post 7.00am   I slumped
back into sleep until 10.00am, the cup of coffee, left on my bedside table as my
beloved departed for work, remained untouched and well and truly chilled.

One would have thought that an early venture out of the
house, following such a good apparently refreshing sleep, would have found me
with an extra spring in my step but, that was not to be the case. As I headed
off along the road, my lower limbs felt as firmly supportive as a pair of
loosely rolled-up towels. My left arm felt like an achingly hollow lead tube.

About a third of the way towards my goal, Open-Church at St Marks, I mentally yielded to the message from my exercise resistant limbs and, after the briefest of pauses, began the slow saunter home; and now, a few rested hours later,  my body finally seems to be waking up.

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