From Out of the Rabbit Hole

 In my last blog post, to my shame almost 3 weeks ago now, I indicated that I was ready to get out and attack life again. Not one to do things by halves, I haven't really stopped, certainly not for long enough to write here. In fact it's all felt a bit Alice in Wonderlandish.

Caree nods off to sleep, falls down a rabbit hole and wakes up in a mad, mad world. 

So February has seen me dashing to London by train; spending days playing with Grandotty and her toys; catching up again with my fitness until my muscles have screamed in agony, grown tongues of their own and begged me to stop; on a whim repainting a kitchen door and then finding myself drawn into decorating the whole caboodle and it's still ongoing. We've even been to a Mad Hatter's tea party or was it my brother's 60th birthday lunch, followed by tea and cake?

There have been catch ups with friends over coffee and more lunch, medical appointments and all the usual wider family get togethers, chores and voluntary commitments. Exhausting but enlivening.

There's even been a bit of Karma.

On my journey to London I was inundated by text messages from the next generation, checking on my arrival time both at Kings Cross and ultimate destination (an overland station in North London) with helpful directions and reassurance as though somehow  this sprightly retiree had lost all her grey matter and never been to a capital city before. 

"If you get lost, let me know and I'll come out of the office and find you," read one message. 

Oh ye of little faith, you might now live there but I was visiting London long before you were born. Just to prove it, I outfoxed them all, no doubt buoyed on by solving the riddle of the QR code on the back of the seat in front of me, to order, pay and take delivery of an East Coast mainline lunch in a bag, without ever leaving my train seat!

Powerwalking to the tube, changing to an overground train with minutes to spare, I made it to my final station whilst Dilly was still getting Grandotty into the pushchair. Consequently I met them only yards from their house but, and despite the rain that continues to fall, was greeted by a grin like that from the Cheshire Cat glowing out from inside the pramsuit. 

The Eldest returned home late that evening. "I'm late, I'm late," he texted. He may be used to the inner city commute but still managed to miss his stop home that night and continuing to the next station had to turn round and retrace his journey from the platform opposite!

Next night the Youngest caught up with us for dinner. Important date or not, she was late too, after getting on the wrong train!

I can't help thinking that in retirement we may be older, life can still be busy and yet we are nevertheless able to emerge with our heads held high and reputations unsullied.