I have no idea why I feel so sleepy today. There is no reason for me to feel so drained. I did very little of great exertion this weekend - bit of housework, got my little car serviced and MOT'd ('That's a ripping little car you've got there,' said the garage man when I collected it.' 'Why, thank you,' said I.) I did lots of reading and even more sewing. Sewed like a demon, I did.
Went for a lovely walk in the park first thing yesterday morning when it was cold and fresh and sharp. Had a long chat with a very elegant elderly lady and her dog, Toby. She told me about last weekend when she had a fall on some ice she thought was just water. 'Jarred every bone in my body,' she said, 'but didn't break a single one of them, thank goodness. I let myself rest for a week, and today is my first day out.'
'Onwards with a battle cry?' I said.
'Exactly!' she said. 'But I felt such a fool, going down like that. No use feeling sorry for myself though. I'm not a youngster. I can't afford to waste days being nervous about going out.'
And I met a shi-tzuh called Honey, a teeny dashund of indeterminate name, a mad cocker spaniel puppy who was intent on bowling over EVERY other dog in the park no matter what size just for the sheer hell of it. The ducks, geese and swans were gathering to have their babies. The lake was frozen nearly all the way across and was covered with birds all going 'Look at me! I can stand on water!!'. I heard a very insistent woodpecker and tried to find it but it evaded my search and remained invisible.
Andy and I popped out for lunch on Saturday. Always nice, popping out for a little lunch a deux with your hubbie. I paid my tax bill which made me wince. I said to the Post Office counter man, 'If they let me keep that money I could kick start the economy by going on a very satisfying spending spree. Still, as long as the Government spend it on something useful.'
The Post Office counter man looked at me. 'I doubt it,' he said. Cheerful chap. The joys of being self-employed.
Why so tired, then? I blame the last dark days of Winter. That's what it is, I reckon. Tired of the dark mornings and evenings. A sky, dressed grey with rain clouds. I think even January is growing weary with January.
But in the garden, bluebells shoot and catkins dangle. Both hens are laying well. The magnolia is developing fat flower buds and the lemon balm is sprouting.
Time for a cup of tea, and a piece of Andy's new-found signature bake - twice baked marmalade cake! It turns your bog standard marmalade cake into something more crunchy, almost biscuity, and intensifies the flavour of orange. It is, quite frankly, delicious! I reckon I can stay awake for some of that!