Aches, pains and pulled muscles

Yuk. After a night of careful turning, fluffing up the pillow and awful pains in my neck, shoulders and head, I came to the conclusion cutting sections of the tree down at the bottom of the garden weren't such a good idea after all.
As I gingerly lifted the kettle to make a cup of tea and wincing at the pain, I suddenly remembered all the other lifting jobs I'd done recently;
- carrying 10 bags of compost to the car, from the car and then up the garden.
- double digging a bed 4m x 3m to clear out Japanese balsam.
- weeding and pruning of the rest of the garden...... doing the tree.....and the list went on.
As I sat down I rued the day that mare ditched me across a cross country jump and broke my back and cracking my neck. Yes, I'd pushed things too far and am now facing the consequences.
We do feel a sense of in-vulnerability when we are younger, and brush off accidents we have as something we'll get over.
Do we? Or do we just store up trouble for later? Broken bones heal over time, but in comes the chances of arthritis, rheumatism, brittle bone disease and other nasties at the site of the original break.
I wish I'd been more sensible at the time. I wish I hadn't broken in a youngster so soon after the accident. I wish the youngster hadn't decked me as many times as he did during those crucial, first few years of healing.
Yes, hindsight is a marvellous thing, and as I sit here, wincing at the pain and taking more pain killers, I do still manage to grin at everything I have done up until now.
Tee hee, it's been great fun, but ooh, am I paying for it now.

Put the phone down mummy

A family came into the cafe where I was ensconced with coffee and cake.
The dad went off to order food whilst mum sat down and the little girl got herself onto the chair opposite.
She was well turned out, quiet and it was obvious, had been out to eat at a cafe many times before.
Mum sat herself opposite taking little notice of her daughter, and, pulling out her phone, proceeded to scroll through posts.
It was clear from the way her daughter started chattering, that she wanted to engage her mother in a chat, but there was no response at all. In fact, mother didn't even register her daughter.
Dad sat down. He nudged his partner and told her what he'd ordered. Without breaking visual communication with her screen, she muttered something then carried on scrolling.
Dad looked at daughter and told her to sit still. All this time, the little girl of 3 or 4 had been sitting patiently attempting to get mummy to talk with her. She began to play with the salt and pepper pots. Mother looked up, told her off, then looked at her screen once more.
Even whilst eating, mother's prime focus was her screen....as was dads.
And the child? Their child? Who talked with her? Who educated her? And what message was being given the child? She sat, eating alone in the silent, isolated world she found herself in. She appeared shunned by technology, pushed into an insular world where those closest to you, teach you the modern day life lessons, phone control and failed physical interaction.
I finished my coffee and left, saddened by what I had seen.