Any dream will do

I gave thanks for the sound of the rain this morning...and that the sound of it dripping through building made someone else empty the bucket before I got to it. I couldn't stay in bed late anyway as I was expecting a delivery of surgical supplies. We now have an hour time slot instead of 15 mins but the courier still expects you waiting on the doorstep when he arrives for the lecture about what a nuisance it is you haven't got a doorbell...and I'd rather not do any of the above in night attire. He was so snappy today and I was so tired he reduced me to tears. I give thanks there's still a chance I might move to a flat with an intercom! One can but cling to the dream...And I give thanks I know I'm very lucky to have stoma equipment supplied at all, let alone delivered.

I woke up many times in the night with cramps in my legs and feet so I was grateful for a restorative snooze when I'd done a round of bucket duty myself, and other essential chores like helping the mortgage company realise they'd lost an important form. For an otherwise generally restful day and for managing a few rows of knitting here and there in between bouts of cramp in my hands. For mulling over why it should be that extra inconvenient way round and deciding it's just due to the usage patterns of different muscle groups.

I give thanks for some catch up TV suitable for watching while the neighbours are going about their mysterious and sometimes somewhat intrusive business without intruding myself with loud guffaws etc. I give thanks for a mildly amusing old Columbo and some New Lives in the Wild where Ben Fogle meets folk escaping the rat race in various versions of 'living the dream'. To be honest I'd probably enjoy a programme where he visits a landfill site in a Black Maria, but this is even better as I get to see far off lands and lifestyles that make me whimper (quietly) with a mixture of longing and vicarious delight.