Week 21: Leg log
I admit to having been weary lately. The goal, that lovely house in the Algarve, has felt further away, not closer. Here there seems to be an endless list of things to do; none of them onerous, but all of them time-filling. The weather turned dreadful: low, white skies and constant precipitation from drizzle to hailstones like marbles. And there’s been the Leg. It sometimes feels like this has become a blog about a leg. (A bleg?) Needless to say, none of this has been easy for the owner of the Leg. While you are forced to go about on crutches, you lose the use of your hands. This means you have to rely on someone else to fetch and carry. This is no fun for the owner of the Leg, and it’s not much fun for the Fetcher and Carrier either.
On top of all this comes work. But I love my work, and the three authors I’ve been editing lately have all been, in their own vastly different ways, a delight. One of them I had a meeting with this week, but the other two I haven’t yet met, in spite of being on my seventh (?) book with one of them. That’s by way of reminding myself that being in the Algarve won’t make any difference to my work, not once I’ve got the internet connection established anyway.
Then came more good news about the Leg. It is still not yet eight weeks since the operation, which was initially the period during which Husband was not to use the Leg at all. There was a reprieve – only six weeks post-op he was told he could start putting weight gently on the toes. Now, another visit to the fracture clinic, and the all-clear. Back to normal leg work, as much as he feels capable of. It will take time to build the muscle back up, but there are no medical restrictions. The crutches can be used for confidence or in case of tiredness, but should otherwise be cast aside. It’s that speed-healing vegetarian diet, must be. Not to mention all the care and consideration from Wife and Mother-in-law . . .
Next, an email from First Friends, who had been on a walk to our house, and told us that the bougainvillea is blossoming again and the pomegranate tree has fruit. The air, after light rain, was fragrant of pine and eucalyptus.
Our spirits have lifted.
By the time of next week’s blog, we will be waiting to board the ferry to Bilbao.