On the slack line since it's still daylight after supper and it's nice out, two things that haven't happened simultaneously in MONTHS and I'm not letting the chance slip by, like my skills have since I'm not permitted to set this up near the pool or the garage. Ours is on a stand, about five feet off the ground and it's not like I could put it up anywhere else as the stands are well-anchored and the grass is soft when I fuck up. My focus is completely absent, my centre of gravity is missing after having children, I think and my drive outweighs my desire in spades as I want to retain the talents without doing the training. I need the training so here I am, daily when I can. My strength is waning horribly. Lochlan keeps his up. I get tired walking up a second flight of steps lately, further possible confirmation that I did get the virus before Christmas and have simply managed to white-knuckle through it the way I do through everything else.
Neamhchiontach.
Ah. Distractions.
What? I yell, thrusting my arms out to the sides. I can pretend I've got this, but only if I don't fall off.
You're supposed to have a spotter so you don't breaking your little fucking neck out here.
Lochlan knows where I am.
The hell he does or he would be here or have sent me out with you.
If you stand that close to me I can't do anything-
If you fall and land on your head you'll be doing even less.
Nice.
He's got his arms out like I am a cat in a tree, ready to jump. I ignore him and try to concentrate but it's pointless so instead I tuck my arms in and do a dramatic swoon, falling right where he was hoping I would.
Oh. He smells like cedar, coffee and cilantro. Nice. He puts me upright, on my feet.
See? Safe.
With the devil? I highly doubt it.