Getting back to normal?

The offending joint has good days and less good days, but I'm optimistic.  Today anyway, it being a good day.  I drove myself gingerly to art class on Thursday, it being two weeks since the procedure, following which which I was advised not to for that long.  That was also the point at which I was allowed to dispense with the compression stockings, much to my relief.   I have a good range of movement in the knee, but am sticking assiduously to the prescribed exercises meanwhile.  The dressings came off a few days ago, the stitches are disintegrating, and the spectacular bruise on my thigh is fading at last.  I accuse the stockings: I'll ask the sawbones when I see him in a couple of weeks' time.  I suppose I ought to hang on to them in case we go in for long flights at some point.

Martyn tells me that the new car is on the high seas, on its long journey from the Czech Republic, via Emden and Grimsby.  I'm told it'll arrive at the showroom in just over a week's time.  Meanwhile, I must admit, we've been coping pretty well as a one-car family...  I wonder whether the old VW has been sold on.  Whoever buys it will get a good 'un, even if there were starting to be a few electrical funnies, like false alarms from the tyre pressure sensors and the parking brake.  There was also the small matter of an outstanding remedy to the fraudulent emissions software, but that is no longer my problem.

One can never confidently plan the gardening at this time of year.  Yesterday we had torrential showers: today is sunny but with a sneaky north-east wind.  But it was warm before lunch in the sunshine on the terrace (which is a bit of a sun trap), so I've potted up some cuttings that had been braving the wind tunnel outside the kitchen door and moved them to a much more sheltered cold frame.  Potentillas: white, primrose, yellow and orange (though the orange ones have not rooted as strongly as the others), cistus purpureus and I think a rose-pink penstemon.  We already have a couple of cistus cuttings on the go.  Since it's getting on for ten years since we moved here, finding space for stuff is not easy!  The other side of that coin is that a number of hebes have developed to the leggy stage, and want hoiking out and replacing.  The same is true of the cistus pulverulens, close cousin of the cistus we so admire up in the garrigue: I might see whether I can get some cuttings of that to strike before winter sets in: the plants we now have are second or third generation cuttings from one I bought for the garden at Smith Towers, so optimism is once again in order, I'd say.