Music and postman pat

Bit of this

I get up with the first chattering of the jackdaws. It's seven o'clock exactly. 

I dance my heart out in pools of afternoon light to tracks from River Dance. The music blasts into my soul, dissolving my rigidity, compelling me to find expression in movement. I lay exhausted on the floor. Mission accomplished. I am numb. Sticking plaster re-stuck. 

The post lady calls on Mrs T to see if she has letters, and is o k. A social worker in a red van.

Bit of that

Faith can move mountains. She's a bright girl. 

('nother bit of graffiti)