I manage to have a bit of a lie-in this morning, and don’t get up until after 9am.
I have a leisurely cup of tea and make myself a Nutriblast for my breakfast. I know that I’m not going to do very much today – I don’t feel up to doing any tiling, so my self-imposed target of finishing the bathroom by the 15th May is well and truly missed. I’m just going to have a quiet day at home.
I have a bit of a tidy up in the kitchen – I’ve let things slide a little while my wife has been away at her youngest son’s for the last 2 or 3 days. I empty the dishwasher, and then decide to make a root vegetable mash with some turnip, parsnips and carrots that need to be used up because they are starting to look decidedly the worse for wear. I chuck in half a bulb of garlic and a couple of chillies to spice it up a bit, and congratulate myself on chopping all those vegetables without any bloodshed. My tremor is still reasonably well contained, but it is feeling a little close to the surface compared with the last couple of days. Dystonia in my right foot is making its presence felt, but it’s bearable. My voice seems okay, but then I’ve only spoken (to the dog) on a couple of occasions today, so it’s difficult to judge. Balance is fine and my walking isn’t too bad. Muscular weakness and stiffness are okay, but waves of fatigue threaten to overwhelm me from time to time.
I take the dog out for her afternoon walk, and then spend half an hour at the allotment, hoeing between the rows of onions. A couple of courgette plants appear to have survived the frost that we had earlier in the week, which is good.
I bung a ready meal in the oven (Thai green curry) when I get back home, vacuum downstairs, and then slump on the sofa with a bottle of Hobgoblin.