Yesterday I went to to a birthday pary of a friend, godmother of my son. Although we now live in the same city, once again, we see each other relatively infrequently. When our children were little,we saw each other often. My friend is my son's godmother. I love her children, and am always do very glad to see them. My love is reciprocated, and a great part of my enjoyment of the birthday party was to talk to these children - now in their forties.
Friendship is very often situational, but endures nonetheless. Thus it is with this friend and her family. What a swell party it was.
As I may not drive at present, I travelled by bus. For the next few weeks, I will be travelling by bus. This is, mostly, easy enough, but some trips are across the city, and public transport is cumbersome. I will manage, or if it is too complicated, will vary my schedule for the time being.
This recovery period is rather odd. I pad about the house, slowly but efficiently. Moving further affield can be rather more complicated, but should work out. Local services are good, shops, bank, pharmacy are within easy reach. The year's activities are about to resume, and the logistics vary. It is easy to get into the city, but cross country is more difficult. Transport is in and out of the city, not across it. While my disability is, I hope, temporary, getting to choir is not simple. A friend insists she will drive me to choir this week, and I will take a taxi home. I want to keep my usual routine going. Some thought is required, and I do not wish to be a nuisance. Once I am able to drive, things will settle down. So I hope.
The discomfort is lessening, but I am having to think things through.
My handyman has been here, and he is getting through all the various tasks. He classifies these as minor maintenance. This is reassuring. To my mind, repairs should be done as required. Dr P, alas, tended to see repairs as needless extravagance.
To celebrate these repairs, I bought a palm. One of the frustrations of inner city living is the lsck of garden space, and, perhaps foolishly, I try to squeeze more plants into a very limited space. And I buy flowers. You have to have some fun, pathetic though it may seem.