Clinging on

I give thanks for a sofa so good afternoon today, snoozing in front of the TV after providing myself with brunch of pancakes and a late lunch of dhal. For keeping attempting to keep on top of the washing up...though it's always just slightly ahead as I keep on having one more cuppa, or one more cuppa and snack!

I give thanks for managing a reasonable job with the cling film at bath time, though not well enough to a actually have my arm in the water of course, which was a little complicated (as was getting in and out without using it for leverage or support)... but I gave thanks it was a whole lot easier than when I wasn't allowed to get my back more than slightly damp. I had a little epiphany looking at back at the last however many years of my life and thinking 'Journey? I'm not on a journey...I've not been anywhere, I've been kidnapped and held hostage!'

It's strange how some people think you're a bit less of a person if your body is broken or weak or wearing out, and can't do the things that they can...  because in the end everyone's body will be and just carrying on, albeit cack-handedly, with the challenges of unremarkable every day life when yours is challenging you makes you more of a superhuman than a substandard one.

I give thanks for working out what to do with the giant spider in the bath, knowing it would drown or die of cold outside in the rain - I released it onto the communal landing. And just about managed to scuttle back inside the door before it did.

I give thanks for managing a little bit of gentle craft work. Every so often my arm reminds me quite forcably there's been some recent brutality to take into account, but on the whole if I don't force it it's not too bad.