Doctor Foster

Maybe you heard this rhyme as a child though perhaps only if you live in the UK. What has it got to do with this post?

My exercise regime is such that I am finding I am increasing my activity every time I take exercise, which is every day unless I am ill or incapacitated. If I holiday anywhere you will usually see me walking a lot. Now that E is less active than she used to be due to her condition walking places with her is very restrictive so if I do go for walks it is by myself. The last short break we had together, which was in Vienna, saw me pushing her around the city in a wheelchair. I had the added advantage of the extra weight to push around wherever we went! The point was I got the exercise one way or another. Lately I have taken the opportunity to do some beach walks down the coast from where I live (see older posts). Usually I either take the pedestrian walk along the coastal road and enter onto the beach three and a half miles away then walk back homeward on the beach itself or I take to the beach first then return along the coastal road. On Sunday I chose to walk along the road first though not on the pedestrian/cyclists path but along the now covered dunes to the side of it. The dunes on the other side of the road lie between it and the sea. Anyway as I reached the entrance to the beach I was stopped by a young woman who greeted me by name. I had to apologise for not having remembered her but I am often stopped in the street by people who know me because I have worked at their home in the past and I can’t remember them all. It turns out she had been trying to contact me to do a small electrical job for either her or her mom who was with her. I told her I had retired six months ago but that if she wanted a small job doing. I said I might take on the work if indeed it was a small job. We exchanged phone numbers and I carried on with my walk. I decided to walk back at a pace the whole way rather than just amble along. Finally I reached the spot where I had to turn off onto the wet grassy area between the beach and the dry land but couldn’t at first see the path. I say path but it is really mostly covered in mud and puddles hidden by the marram grass. I met with the path by approaching it from the side. Thinking it was more or less simply wet grass I was walking upon as I approached the path I suddenly found my feet in a half-metre of water! It all poured into my boots and I had to walk the remainder of my walk, about a mile, with wet feet. I considered myself fortunate that the ‘puddle’ wasn’t waist-deep! Happy days.

Shirley Anne





Author: Shirley Anne

Happy to be alive because of Jesus