The recent virus has moved on, but I'm still struggling to move myself on. I did a spot of gardening today and it hurt. Played badminton for the second time, which hurt less. Gloriously, flavours are returning with my appetite. Food tastes as it should and I am rediscovering the simple pleasures of tea: Twinings Fair-Trade Breakfast, Yorkshire Gold, Camomile; even the tea ordinaire at Waitrose has flavour reminiscent of dried leaves and sunshine.
After two or three really spring-like days, we have a cold North wind again, but even so I had to look carefully at the closing canopy, the shrubs and grasses to decide whether we had reached the million shades of green day that marks the true start of every spring for me. I reckon about three hundred thousand today, so nearly there.
Youngest went shopping for his first suit today; still in spring himself.
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