After five months of chronic sciatica, two months of which I couldn't walk, I'm finally sitting up and taking notice. There's still some residual pain - in my left buttock, would you believe - but I'm painting again and doing a little writing - should do much more, but I have to take things easy and the last few months, if they've taught me anything, they've taught me the importance of finding plenty of time to relax after a long illness.
Christmas had to be cancelled, as did New Year. Not a morsel of turkey passed my lips, nor a sip of celebratory alcohol. After all, what did I have to celebrate and the old hooch (or is that hootch?) was out because of the medication I was on. They even put me on Morphine patches, which only just took the edge of the pain for a couple of weeks. But here I am, gradually getting back to a shadow of my former self and hoping for better soon. As I say, I've started painting and am back teaching my art group in the village here. And I've held the first meeting of my small writers group.
Better still, I've started to gather research on my proposed new novel. It's something of a suspense saga set mostly in Ceylon before it was called Sri Lanka. It's one place that I have visited that I haven't used as a background for my stories, so I'm looking forward to the nostalia trip.
Right now, tiredness is setting in, so I think I'll retire and put my feet up in front of the tele. I wonder if I can persuade my husband to cook dinner - he did all the cooking while I was immobilised and I got a little too used to that hithertofore unknown service.
Now that I've remembered that I actually have a Blog I must try to contribute to it more often.
