Penultimate yoga class this morning.
I’ve just read that Yoga does nothing for aging. Interesting if you put ‘for’ and ‘aging’ together you get FORAGING aint that what you do when you get older. A bit of a forage here a bit of a mooch there?
Anyway whoever wrote that Yoga does nothing for aging is not a sprightly 65-year-old with a spring in her step.
This morning, despite Solly eating into one of the presents under the Christmas Tree, I ventured out into the damp, grey morning to sweat my way through an hour’s hot yoga.
Then to the post office to send off 40 odd cards – yes I know I’m late, but I haven’t sent cards for years. Now that everybody is dying I thought I would reconnect with the living.
Year of the Goat
The fire is blazing, the telly silent till ‘Mapp and Lucia’, one cat asleep in the red bean bag, the other perched on top of the sofa. Emmy growls. Solly stares at her and she moans like an old wart hog. There was the possibility of going out BUT, well there’s always a but; we’ve … Read more