Seven and it will all be over for another year. Three weeks and all those flashing lights will be taken down, put back in their boxes and put away for another year. And before you know it we shall be making a mistake and putting 2020 when we need to put 2021. Happens every year, regular as clockwork.
I wish you could see the quality of light in my back garden - ten to eleven on a Sunday morning. The sun is bright, lighting up the yew hedge along the back of the garden. But the backdrop to that is a pitch black sky - amazing. Lovely to watch from the comfort of my computer chair and the radiator.
I have learned a lot by having this accident - almost worth it. For example
1. Be more careful. Look where you are going. Don't try to do two jobs at once or to try and reach a light switch or door knob just out of reach. In other words - what's the hurry?
2, Be organised. I always thought of myself as quite a tidy, organised person. This has taught me otherwise. I no longer walk with a stick, but with a Zimmer Frame. My carer ties a fresh plastic carrier bag on the front of it each morning and as the day progresses I put my rubbish (orange peel, envelopes from that day's mail, eventually the day's paper) in it and when the evening carer comes she takes the bag off and empties it.
3. Plan your journey. Here's an example - jobs I needed to do - clear the dining room table, put away spare envelopes, writing pad, pens etc., find the files ready to file my papers which are on the top of the printer in the computer room, empty a carrier of books which has stood in the hall for the past fortnight. Either I sit down and write a list of the order in which I shall do this or I trek back and forth and tire myself out going over the same ground again and again.
I made a list about two weeks ago of the jobs I needed to do: - presents to buy (this is surprisingly easy with the internet) and send. This is now finished apart from one or two to be wrapped and this is on my list for later today. Incidentally a friend posted a parcel for me, I wrapped it, ran out of sellotape and finished off the wrapping with string. The postlady cut all the string off. No string allowed on parcels now - it gets trapped in the machinery.
Is there a feeling more satisfying than crossing off a job done from a list you have made? Answers on a postcard but no rude ones John or Tom!!