Storm Ciara arrived yesterday. They closed the Royal Parks! How very dare they?
Although there are plenty of other places I can walk, the weather was indeed pretty grim and I felt that I was probably more at risk on the local streets from potential flying loft-construction debris, (and maybe even airborne garden trampolines, which we’re told are a thing now – another of the railway’s list of hazards) than from decades-old trees in Richmond Park.
Never mind. Instead, I passed my enforced quiet Sunday time searching travel websites in increasing excitement and anticipation of the next but one holiday.
I also spent valuable hours updating one of my many spreadsheets – indeed creating a whole new page to try and comfort myself that there WILL be funds available to pay for these wished-for hols. Hmm – there is real skill in ‘creative & persuasive’ budgeting.
By 6pm, I had reached peak restlessness. I can’t stay in the house all day unless I’m properly ill. I gave in and went for a short march around the block, getting only slightly wet and less blown about than expected. Even so, I’m glad it was dark, as I still looked a fright when I got back.
I am sorry to report that despite significant stair-climbing and room-wandering in addition to my march, I failed to achieve my daily target of 12000 steps. First time since Christmas Day. Thanks Ciara.