The children are both back at school on the same day, it feels like a miracle, albeit a small miracle, I'll take whatever miracles I can get. As for me, my legs still feel like they belong to someone else, my chest is still gripped and occasionally someone tightens the vice around my skull. Sadly rest is something I'm not accustomed to and there's a slight battle of martyrdom going on here as we both try to step up for the other. I am enjoying the quiet in the house for the few hours that it is gifted to me as I potter around trying to take care of chores, the groundhog day of washing and vacuuming, muffins to bake, vegetables to roast, as well as designs for bowls, and slight laying down of paint and sketching. The painting above is one of these, a WIP begun yesterday in a state of half recline and half determination. Meanwhile a large canvas in the corner of my eye taunts me to come back to it. Started on a decidedly spring day in the middle of winter, it torments me now from afar as I have neither the energy nor inspiration to go back to it right now and I am desperately looking forward to a day when my body will feel strong enough to go for a walk. Perhaps that winter sun will even accompany me.