And all is quiet. Well, it should be _ it's after 11.30! I'm nearly off to bed. It was my day off today, which meant lots of Patrick time. Which is great, but oy! Tiring. :) He's full of energy and enthusiasm for oh .... everything.
We played a rousing game of "Where's Patrick" on Monday night, which went over a treat and today he kept flinging his arms above his head. I have no idea why but I suppose he was full of the joys of spring, or something. Maybe.
I've started walking in the mornings again. Just for 20 minutes at the moment and I'm going to build on that. My goal is to get to a secondhand bookstore that is well more than 20 minutes away from home, but I'm hoping that by starting relatively small, I won't be discouraged. :) And it's nice, you know, to get out. The streets are pretty quiet, so I pop along, listening to music and looking at people's gardens. It doesn't sound like much when you write it down, but the way I see it is, it's better than not going. Fresh air, time to myself ... can't argue with that. :)
Work is going along too. It's weird and quiet now, though, and kind of a little bit sad. We start training on a new system come Monday, so that should provid exercise for the old brain cells.
I'm still picking away at the hyacinth but I haven't got much done this week; the walking means I need to shift my patterns around a little bit, I think. I'm just not sure where to fit the stitching in now, except in tiny fits and starts. H'm. That requires some thinking.
The kind of thinking you do with your eyes closed in a dark room.