Ah December, what a contrary month you are. Your dark, freezing mornings (and equally dark, freezing rest-of-the-day!) leave me with a severe case of the S.A.Ds, and wishing I were a hibernatory creature, so that I could curl myself up in a warm, snuggly spot until the spring. But then you lure me out of your gloom with oh so many pretty, shiny lights! You offer me presents, and tell me its more than okay to stuff my face with chocolate at every available opportunity. You make frosty mornings and snowfalls seem idyllic and playful, and I’m sucked in every time. Until, that is, I take my first skipped steps into your wintry wonderland, and remember that it’s flippin’ freezin’ out there, and I don’t like the cold! You’re a sly month, December. A very sly month. And I’m never quite sure what to make of you. But I do know this… I love Christmas :D.
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Getting over it
Whew! The last few months have spiraled past me in a blurry whirl of doctors surgeries, sofas and more brave cake than I could shake a stick at! That is of course if I were allowed to shake a stick, or indeed do anything other than lay down and ‘take it easy’. Which I was not. Having had a touch of surgery in October, I was on strict instructions to rest up for a month; no exercise, no strenuous movements, and as much ‘feet-up’ time as I could squish into my post-op days. Sounds lovely in theory, doesn’t it? Not so great in practice if, like me, you are a raging bundle of kinetic energy, desperate to get out and do stuff! Don’t get me wrong, I love a good laze around; snuggling into the sofa, blankied up, waiting for a delicious afternoon snooze to kick in. And being waited on hand and foot wasn’t all bad either :). But when you start to become the sofa you’ve been lying on, and your vegetative state is such that you begin to resemble a potato, things have definitely gone a tad too far.