Farther Afield

God, the weather was diabolical today.

This morning I decided to accompany my SO on a business trip up North, to get me out of the house. My studio is being built in the garden and the builder likes to wander in and out of the house when he isn't drilling, so it's not the most relaxing scenario.

We travelled up the motorway with the weather worsening around us, as it seemed, every moment. Monstrously black clouds reared up out of blue skies and flung sheets of rain at us, and the tarmac was hidden in the boiling, bouncing spume of the spray. The temperature dropped steadily through the low teens and I even deployed my seat warmer. Still, the countryside North of Lancashire is dramatic enough to appreciate in any weather with its craggy outcrops and plunging, rolling farmland giving way to tantalising glimpses of the glittering Morecambe Bay to the Wesr.

The meeting was soon over and it was time to make the return journey. By this time I was starting to ache a little; feel less present. But I'm still progressing: only two paracetamol lasting the whole day (though I was pleased to get home and have some more), and this would have seemed impossible this time last week. The seroma is building up again, but I'm not afraid of having that removed now I know it doesn't hurt. In fact, like having an ear syringed, it's quite pleasant. The feeling of having the implant bouncing against an internal nipple gets stronger throughout the day!

I'm tired now. But at least I got out a little today, on very few painkillers. Very happy about that.