My mother always used to say: when you’ve been unwell, the first day you feel better doesn’t count. Wait another 24 hours before getting up and going.
My children, in their concern, extended this rule to 48 hours. I obliged.
I must say that I have now officially reached the 48-hour mark of feeling completely, gloriously like myself again.
Naturally, my first instinct is to grab a basket and go charging out to a market. Instead, I’m feeling the urge to put my house back in order. It needs a fluff.
At six o’clock this morning I went for a walk. I praised everything in sight. Trees, sky, sidewalks, birds, probably a mailbox or two. getting up and going outside was the best medicine. Deep gulps of gratitude..
Tomorrow, Yann comes home. By then all should be as it ought to be.
However, I intend to enforce the family protocol: he must wait 48 hours after he feels good before doing anything like getting out of bed.
We’ll see if he actually follows the rule. I think if he is stubborn and doesn’t, that’s a good sign too
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