A winter dance

What have I been doing?  Can't go out, combination of arthritis and snow.... My hydrotherapy was cancelled.  I did get to the meeting Sunday morning, thanks to the gallant Captain B who drove me as near to the door as we can get, and came in, picked me up and walked me back to the car.   There were a lot of empty seats as the talk began, but people began to arrive and we were pretty full by the end.

This morning the sky and the Channel are equally grey - the sky looking full of snow - and there is snow still lying. We have to shop this morning and pick up my medications.

I think another poem is called for.   But do I have a snow one I haven't blogged before? There is this little verse about a cold New Year many years ago. We were staying with my  parents at the bungalow.

Those were the days when getting up from my chair was just that - getting up from my chair - not the marathon Everest climb by the North Face without oxygen and Sherpa support that it feels like now.

Whatever the weather - obviously apart from rain - my mother hung the washing out.

 A January Washday in Sheffield

                by me

Black trees rattle in the icy wind

Through gale-smashed panes the greenhouse sings

Tights, shirts, tea-towels, bras and knicks

Dance to welcome eighty-six!