That old Elf Magic my granny taught me back in Skara Brae centuries ago still works; I'm (almost) aw' better now. Three months ago, I couldn't raise my right arm above my shoulder or walk more than half a city block without extreme fatigue. Now I can hang the laundry out to dry (I'm old-fashioned enough to prefer line-dried clothes to dryer-dried. They smell nicer.) I had to report for jury duty a couple of weeks ago (no, I wasn't selected and rode the city bus to the courthouse for a week. The stop is maybe a kilometer away, which I walked briskly.
So enough about me. Let's all quaff down a mug or two of Recovery Red Ale to celebrate! Bones, if you'll please pour? Thank you! Here are two or three kegs to serve everybody.
Love to you all,
P. S. The only reason it's "almost" but not "completely" healed is because of the bruise I STILL have on my right knee, and the rib and scapula that occasionally let me know that they're not completely knit. Pain about one-half on that famous hospital query, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how intense is your pain?"