I put the garbage out last night.

No big deal, right? Well, it was for me. I realise that I haven’t put the garbage out for months! Not (I hasten to say) because I live in filth — I’ve relied on Hubby and neighbours to take up my slack. But I’ve consciously avoided this task since I hurt my hamstring. Let’s be clear that putting out the garbage involves manhandling several enormous wheelie bins up a ramp from our garden, along a passageway, and then bumping them down the front doorstep to leave them on the pavement. Plus the return journey (although they’re lighter then, obviously) in the evening. And I was too scared to do that in case I tweaked something that I’ve been nurturing and coaxing gently along for what feels like a lifetime now.

When I’d finished hauling the bins around I spent some time in the garden. I hadn’t realised how little care I’ve given to the garden recently. I’m not that green-fingered at the best of times, but it’s difficult to conceive of many gardening activities that don’t involve hamstring stretching. I settled for putting some baby plants (help me out, what’s the right word for this??) into tubs to give a bit of colour to our patio area. The more manually intensive jobs can wait. It already looks a tiny bit more cared for.

Finally to top it all off I did a basic bit of bike maintenance in the hope that one day soon I’ll feel confident about cycling again. To tell the truth I’d almost forgotten I have a bike! Having been forced to learn a lot recently about self-nuturing it felt good to come back to ‘other-nurturing’ and get a few things in order around the place. Perhaps I’m on a roll and I’ll do the vacuuming now too?!