What a glorious spring day
We piled in the car early today and drove across the Peak District to Sheffield, Yorkshire. God’s own county, as they say. My home county. What a tonic.
Daughter has selected Sheffield university as one of her choices for studying politics and international relations. This was her wild card, and she applied blind, so to speak, so we thought we’d take her over to help make an evidence-informed decision. What a treat it was to get out into the fresh air. To drive (be driven) through the beautiful, green, lush Peak District. How lucky we are to live so close to such natural, majestic landscape. That the legendary scene of the Dam Busters is within driving distance of your home is pretty bonkers, but great. I have a great affection for the Peak District, and for Sheffield, as my favourite aunt and uncle lived there and as children we were taken on days out to see them in their tiny village. I guess I associate Sheffield with treats, days out of the suburbs and good things. Well, it delivered again today.
The cancer has made me so alive to everything. It’s as if I’ve grown an extra antenna and am using it to as my own sensory-perception piece of kit. Maybe I’m just more aware, have a wider, what’s it called, peripheral vision. Or maybe it’s because I’m just more mindful, before- and after- like. Whatever it is, it’s a powerful thing.
All I now need is the energy to get off my butt more. I came home and slept for 3 hours. What’s that all about?!! The frustration in not being able to run about like a mad woman is hard to bear (ask my long-suffering family). But I will get there. There will be more sunny days and I’ll be able to get outside and enjoy them properly.
Meantime I’m lying on the sofa listening to Spotify and reading Jane Eyre on the iPad. Not a bad Sunday afternoon – even if the sun is outside.