I think I've injured my right foot. There's been a dull ache on the top for, maybe, a week. I've rubbed/massaged it a few times, and tried to ignore it, hoping it would go away.... and it hasn't. This morning it's become more nagging, appears slightly swollen in comparison to the left foot, and is painful when walking. On a scale of pain of 1-5 where 1 is slight discomfort and 5 is excruciating pain, I'd give it 2.5 when walking. When standing it's 2, and when resting, elevated, now, as I type, I'd say it's a 1. It's a good job I don't work on Thursdays.
I suspect that the running I've been doing recently has something to do with it, which, obviously poses a dilemma. What to do about it? Ignoring it hasn't worked (doh!), so what to try next? It doesn't feel serious enough to go to the GPs surgery/minor injuries unit, and it'll cost for an appointment with a physio/chiropractor whomever, and by the time of the appointment it may have sorted itself out (or not). I'll just have to play the waiting card for the time-being - rest and wait-and-see.
The problem is that I'm not very good at 'resting'. There's so much to do - both in the sense of chores that need doing, and other more interesting/fun/life affirming things as well. So, working a part-time contract in the Library Service means I usually have Mondays and Thursdays to myself - unless I've picked up some extra hours overtime. This gives me time to get/keep on top of the household chores - the floors, the ironing, the cleaning - and if I'm on an even keel inside (the house/my mind), then I can (in my 'world', in my sense of order and right, in my slight obsessive compulsive compunction) allow myself to do the gardening.
Some people may see gardening as a chore, but to me it's a pleasure. There is the sense, the small victory, of putting nature in order, but that doesn't last long in June, and it's more than that. I enjoy the physical aspect, the digging, the turning earth over in fork or fingers, the meditation of mowing the lawn, the challenge of the hedge and satisfaction of a hedge well tamed (for the time-being). The anticipation of the opening bud, the scents, the contrast and ever changing colour of the seasons, or just the life-span of the yellow roses which tint peach as they open fully, smell heavenly, and have shocking thread veins of scarlet as they go over and fall.
There is always something to catch the eye, something new and arresting in the juxtaposition of the different plant forms. I love the spiky leaves and flower heads of the eryngium and echinops, the filling of the spaces with a myriad shades of green and shadows, and the flash of colour, planned or unplanned to please the eye and steal your heart a little. I have to admire the sneaking up of the unwanted weeds, the dandelions, bindweed, nettles, couch grass and sticky weed, vibrant and vigorous, nestling in the spaces, and cheekily growing, I know I can't win.
So today, instead of ploughing on in the garden (metaphorically speaking), I'll take it easy inside instead. A little light ironing, a quick vacuum, maybe sort out a couple of drawers in the kitchen (late spring clean?), and, I feel like making cauliflower cheese. That's taking it easy... in my world ... and I'll put off the next run for a couple of days, assuming my foot feels better.
I suspect that the running I've been doing recently has something to do with it, which, obviously poses a dilemma. What to do about it? Ignoring it hasn't worked (doh!), so what to try next? It doesn't feel serious enough to go to the GPs surgery/minor injuries unit, and it'll cost for an appointment with a physio/chiropractor whomever, and by the time of the appointment it may have sorted itself out (or not). I'll just have to play the waiting card for the time-being - rest and wait-and-see.
The problem is that I'm not very good at 'resting'. There's so much to do - both in the sense of chores that need doing, and other more interesting/fun/life affirming things as well. So, working a part-time contract in the Library Service means I usually have Mondays and Thursdays to myself - unless I've picked up some extra hours overtime. This gives me time to get/keep on top of the household chores - the floors, the ironing, the cleaning - and if I'm on an even keel inside (the house/my mind), then I can (in my 'world', in my sense of order and right, in my slight obsessive compulsive compunction) allow myself to do the gardening.
Some people may see gardening as a chore, but to me it's a pleasure. There is the sense, the small victory, of putting nature in order, but that doesn't last long in June, and it's more than that. I enjoy the physical aspect, the digging, the turning earth over in fork or fingers, the meditation of mowing the lawn, the challenge of the hedge and satisfaction of a hedge well tamed (for the time-being). The anticipation of the opening bud, the scents, the contrast and ever changing colour of the seasons, or just the life-span of the yellow roses which tint peach as they open fully, smell heavenly, and have shocking thread veins of scarlet as they go over and fall.
There is always something to catch the eye, something new and arresting in the juxtaposition of the different plant forms. I love the spiky leaves and flower heads of the eryngium and echinops, the filling of the spaces with a myriad shades of green and shadows, and the flash of colour, planned or unplanned to please the eye and steal your heart a little. I have to admire the sneaking up of the unwanted weeds, the dandelions, bindweed, nettles, couch grass and sticky weed, vibrant and vigorous, nestling in the spaces, and cheekily growing, I know I can't win.
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| flowered in 1 day from fat bud - smells divine, has gone to fully blown day 2, and 5 more buds coming |
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