Week 23: In which our hero falls apart (physically, at least)

Man, what week. I’m exhausted! It started with a couple of night shifts (always fun) and ended with a long weekend Tai Chi retreat (which really is always fun, but also very tiring). Along the way I had a filling fall out, my right leg decided it was no longer going to work properly – giving out whenever I tried to put a lot of weight in it suddenly, I got bit on the head by some unknown insect that stayed icky for days, and my hay fever finally kicked in for the year with a vengeance. I don’t mind admitting to you, I’m pooped!

regine in repose

We had our regular yearly retreat at Braziers Park, a residential college and experimental community deep in the Oxfordshire countryside, where beasts run free, the lawns are comfy, and the (veggie) food is excellent. Actually, you hear some of the descriptions people give of it, and read their own literature, and it sounds far more hippy dippy than it actually is. In fact it’s quite a well run retreat centre, and an absolute pleasure to visit each year. The staff, both permanent and visiting, are always a lovely smiley bunch of people, you get left to your own devices pretty much, and there’s always a big stack of wood for the bonfire when you need it. What more could you want?

cock

There’s also invariably a cute girl or two to be appreciated all weekend, and this year was no exception. And as always, it never fails to bring home to me the fact that I’d quite like someone to share the old trials and tribulations with. But this year, thanks to my soberness (still haven’t touched a drop, and this will be the last time I mention the not drinking thing I promise), I have had the chance for some reflection. Quite simply, if I want to meet the kind of girls they get volunteering at Braziers Park, I need to go the kind of places those girls are known to congregate. Obvious I know, but never the less, a fact I obviously needed driven home. So I’m on the look out for opportunities – volunteering opportunities I suppose – to go places and do stuff that will be give me the chance to meet my future would-be missus. I’ve got a few ideas, but I could always do with more.

And I really need to go for it too. Faint heart ne’er won fair lady, and no one ever got lucky humming and harring about the place and being a candy ass about the whole thing (I’m sure Shakespeare could have put it better, but not any truer mark my words). That’s how I was, but no more. It’s time for a new me.

egg

NB: Ate my first egg for 2 years while I was away too. The chickens were very well looked after so I didn’t think I’d be accruing any bad karma by having one (or two). Tasted great too! You can always tell quality from the rubbish you get in the shops.

Off work this week just chillin’ with nothing to do. Experimenting with cutting out nightshades from my diet and hope to do a wee bit of writing. Also plan on doing a few recipes while I have the chance. Will report on all that in seven days time. Til then, keep on grinnin’. πŸ™‚

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2 thoughts on “Week 23: In which our hero falls apart (physically, at least)

  1. I hope your wonky leg is doing better, I have a weird wing and my boy timmy just broke his arm, so I think we can all have a day to chill and build up our feeble bodies to match our strong minds. good luck with the ladies, my man. you are a cutie and i don’t foresee any challenges for you. (:

    • Thank you honey. I’m off to see the physio this week and apart from that I’m taking it easy. It should sort it self out given enough time.
      Sorry to hear about your arm, and young Timmy’s broken one. Ouch! Hope you’re both all better soon. Big hugs my dear. :o) xx

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