The bandages are off, and the healing seems to be going well. I'm aching a bit more today, and am a bit disappointed that the stiffness I'd been attributing to the bandages is still there. Still, three days on, I ought to have more patience. It was amusing to find the surgeon's artwork on my thigh when the bandage came off: an arrow pointing at the knee wot wanted knifing, and a smiley face.
Rather grim news: it seems that Barbara was not found until some time after she had died. I almost wish we hadn't been told that, not that she'll have known anything about it, I hope. No word yet of funeral arrangements. A reminder to keep in daily touch with frail friends who live alone.
The weather brightened up for a while today, so I took myself and some canvases up to the summerhouse-studio. There's a narrow wall in the sitooterie where the sparky insisted on leaving two ugly plates over junction boxes. On a whim a while back, I bought three long, thin canvases from Fortnums, and am working up some ideas for a triptych. Nice to get the palette knife and a brush flying again.
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