Much more trying to stay with the daily ration, doling out the five minute portions with miserly care.
Doubly so since I still haven't recovered from last Thursday's outing.
(That's firmly settling into a cautionary tale: "I wouldn't do that again, if I were you".)
I didn't manage more that three fives over three hours before discovering that was more than enough for me, this time.
Some weeds pulled, and two point indicators restored to functionality.
And the works train has worn the mainline shiny and clean.
We'll see what Monday gives, but I may have to opt for a couple of days of effectively bed-rest to restore my personal "par".
Not total bed-rest, as I have no-one to bring me food or bed-pans.
We'll burn that bridge when we cross it, or some such expression.
The garden is going to get whatever spare energy is available, while the weather holds. Not to make progress, just to reduce the backlog.
And it calms my mind.
Little increments of things done, put right can be seen.
And with a train on the track, heard.
Putting my health right, well that's a big job: it's hard to see progress,
and the right tools to do it may not even exist, yet.
Beyond noting the accepted good practice, I see not too much point on dwelling on that.
"She'll be right" or won't.
The granite moorland stream, mill lead and waterwheel will be right too, sooner or later.
But that will be a whole series of episodes: about twenty-four, given there's at least two hours of work involved.
Nibble, nibble, nibble.
It should end up roughly as it did here:
One day.
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