Fatigued
I was somewhat tickled to log into this blog tonight and realise that my last entry was titled Exhaustion. Seriously? I don't think I knew the meaning of the word when I made that post. I do now.
The easing of the coronavirus restrictions and return of the eldest from New Zealand, meant that the Bank Holiday weekend was a suitable opportunity for a family reunion. With the eldest and the youngest both joining us, we realised that it was the first time (because of their respective foreign sojourns) that we had all been together at home since Christmas 2016. They both brought their partners to the get-together and suddenly our household of 2 became 6.
Like the weather, it was wonderful but so tiring. There's something about lolling around in the heat, eating, drinking and chatting constantly that is quite exhausting. Keeping the fridge stocked with provisions for hearty appetites is an effort in itself not to mention preparing the house for their arrival.
They left gradually over the course of the last week until finally we waved goodbye to the eldest and his fiancée yesterday evening. It was lovely to see them, sad to see them go but a joy to wake this morning, after recovering with a longer sleep than usual, and feel that retirement normality had been restored.
Whilst I certainly wouldn't want to advocate a slothful retirement there's much to be said for interludes of peace and quiet, although I do agree that a 4 and a half year break is probably excessive.
Anyway there is no rest going forward because not only is there the bedding and towels to launder but also I return to the gym tomorrow for the first time since March 2020. There's every chance, therefore, that my next blog entry will simply be called Comatose, especially as I've optimistically booked myself into 2 classes at either side of an anticipated work-out and swim. However, and whilst my core strength might lack a certain potency, after the past 10 days I am at least assured that my vocal cords are primed and ready to converse.
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