My first day off work sick in living memory. Well, that is a slight exaggeration. But only slight. Have spent the whole weekend housebound and bedridden with a stomach bug.
It struck with eloquent timing almost the minute I finished walking the dogs after work Friday evening.
They've been housebound with me for the duration, poor things. Meaning no disrespect to my wife, but "her hobby" (this dog rescue lark) has landed us with a houseful of mutts only I have the stamina to handle in any mass or on a walk of any duration. Which normally suits me fine. I love walking with them.
I should have gone sailing yesterday, but had to let my crew down. Never done that before. She manned the safety boat to cover the three boats that were mad enough to race in the blow that came in.
Boo sat on my bed for most of the day, keeping watch out of my bedroom window whilst the tree outside taunted me with lost opportunity as it danced in the blustering air.
That young lad has an almost zen-like intensity when he decides to sit and study something. Upright posture, motionless except for the slight twitch of his head as his eyes follow every movement before him.
Almost as if he's puzzling out the secrets of the world he perceives, and what it all means to him.
Maybe one day he'll tell me.
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