Day 250

Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky
Little boxes, little boxes,
And they all look
Just the same.

Seen on an outing over the Labor Day weekend.

I ran 2.07 miles (3.28km), my comfort distance, this morning, with a sore back, for some reason, which I hoped would be cured by the run, as I haven't run for 4 days, one of the longest breaks I have had this year, except when I was sick.  It just didn't seem to happen, too many things to do, going out to visit people, and not coming back until dark.  My back is still full of pain, which is odd, as I never get an aching back, I have my father's strong bones, I think.  I hope.  I didn't have a watch or a phone, so have no idea how long I took, but it was probably quite slow, taking it easy. 

It was my second day of teaching, lovely and exhausting again.  It is always the case, your body (and psyche) have to adjust again to the emotionally and physically draining power of teaching.  It just gets sucked right out of you, all that energy and enthusiasm, so that on the long ride home you are biting your lips to keep awake, rolling down the window to bask in the cool air, just wanting to be there, to be home, to be kissed by your menfolk and teased and cajoled, to sit on the couch and have pleasant conversations, to eat the lovely supper your husband has made, sausage and mash and peas, delicious!  Your dad's favourite meal.

Self-portrait.  I am in love with soft pastels!  Nick the artist came and criticised my picture while I was drawing, telling me that the eye was too big, too low down, not enough light, with all the authority of an
AP Art student, and I just silenced him with "Poetic license, Nick. I'm going for an impression, not realism."