When I titled this blog, I was using the phrase in the sweetly ironic way Bill Watterson did in Calvin and Hobbes, as a pay-off line to a strip of the aforementioned pair joyfully contemplating a summer's day spent sitting in a tree, doing, well, nothing in particular. Ironic distance is what I do, after all, and C & I's plan for the immediate future involved as much sitting in metaphorical trees doing nip (and indeed nap) as we could manage.
Well, that whimsy's bit me on the backside. The days are indeed packed: although for C and I the days quietly unfurl with little in the way of significant narrative or incident or engagement with the world – we still await our first-footer this year, for instance – I find that the we are living them with such an intensity, such concentration and distillation of feeling, that I often have no spiritual, emotional, mental nor creative energy left for keeping up the blog, uploading pictures...at least that's my story.
In other news: The dog ate my homework.
Now I'm here: C&I are, well, wellish. Some days are better than others, and today was sunny and sharp; we went for a walk in the Devon blue red and green, a mile and a half, the sort of thing C would not have managed as well this time last year, as weight loss and morphine have combined to rid her of many of the pains and strains that were limiting her mobility. More impressive yet, she cooked and, more importantly, ate a roast dinner.
There will be new pics soon, I promise. Here's one from November to be getting on with