Rainy Monday Wake-up

There’s nothing quite like the sound of what might be a river outside your window to add a certain frisson to the decision to open your eyes in the morning. Half-buried under duvet and a small mountain of soft toys, that was my first conscious sensory input this morning.

The knowledge that it was an Inset Day, and that lady s and I wouldn’t have to do battle with the cub to go out in that weather arrived soon after. It didn’t stop me opening my eyes to check that there wasn’t actually a river flowing down the wall. As it turned out, the auditory confusion was coming from driving rain against the window panes and sill, a fast flowing drainage overflow pipe, and some kind of outlet releasing steam from somewhere.

Content that the room wasn’t about to flood, I’ll admit I did then turn over and do my best to burrow back into the nearest pillow and snuggle for a little while longer. There are worse ways to start a day, even if you know you’ll be spending the rest of it on the train home.

Neither of us wanted to get up, even though daylight and pre-booked train tickets wait for no one – but I was at least already dressed when the cub burst in wanting morning cuddles. I was honoured with at least ten seconds of enthusiastic cuddles before he bounced off in search of breakfast, a charger, and his Switch (more or less in that order). He is never that bouncy on a school day. To be fair, neither am I.

A Pause

It’s raining again. I’m warm, in bed, and a light breeze from a cracked open window carries the scent of that rain and the pattering of rain against panes and windowsills in a gently erratic white noise extravaganza.


Lady M is asleep beside me, snoring gently. Her pain levels and general mental resilience are not great at the moment, so I’m glad she’s resting.

Although lady s is not here, a check in on her earlier also had her disclosing that she’s not doing well. Like Lady M she’s dealing with chronic pain, and they’re both finding it draining on a physical and emotional front.

I’m tired, but it is a healthy tiredness born of the physicality of the job at the moment rather than the stresses that can feel so overwhelming. I’m on the bounce back up from getting past last week and the anniversary of the attack.

Now I’m merely concerned for my partners’ respective health and resolved to keep my own state positive so I can support them as they may want or need.

So I’ll drift off soon, lulled by the rain and the warm embrace of my duvet. It’s a good pause.