What lies ahead.

Instinct is huddled in the corner with her hand over her ears. Sense sought refuge elsewhere long since. Intellect is shrugging her shoulders. Did I wash the calpol syringe after its’ last use? What temperature was he again? Is that a tantrum or a child with a sore throat? Could he be coming down with it too? He might be teething.

And so for an hour this afternoon, when they all fell asleep including the farmer, I took the chance to walk into the world for the restorative walk. Walking to begin with, there is ranting. Crazy lady stuff. Questioning. Back and forth dialogue. Berating. Hands in the air. Where did it all go wrong. Marching and ranting. And some more questioning.

On I walked until I reached the top of the hill and the climax of my ranting and thus I began to descend back into sanity again. I noticed the lovely day, saluted a neighbour, walked through a freshly grazed field. Strengthened, I began planning for the evening ahead. It’s Sunday, there might even be a glass of wine whilst cooking dinner. Dessert? Sur’ why not? What would be a nice treat for a sore throat?

I take one last deep deep breath of fresh air and head back into God knows what. Ready for it again, in the promise of a relaxing Sunday.

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