Yes, it's raining outside. The gentle pattering of water, the cool breeze. Everything slows down when it rains. Wonderful. I do so love the rain. When I'm indoors, that is. The infantry hates the rain though. It makes things wet, causes foot rot, ensures a cold shivering sleepless night.
Fully in line with the inconsistency and suddeness of army life, I got Monday to Wednesday off. I was wondering what to do with it. Saturday and Sunday would be church. Monday to Wednesday would be daily runs and conditioning exercises and lunching or dining out with old friends. Then I fell sick. And mind you I haven't fallen sick since somewhere in April last year. Even then I didn't have a fever and flu. I've been so used to good, God-given health that I didn't even realise I was falling sick until I actually got a fever.
So my activities for the next few days are more or less pre-arranged by these events. Recuperation. To think that I was pondering the fact that I had too much time thrust upon me all of a sudden.
It is good to sit down and rest. To know that I may wake up, not to military activity and the emotionally draining issues of my men, but to a perfectly peaceful morning. The noisy karaoke and totally disrespectful, unneighbourly chatter of the void deck-loitering youth sound of home and I, if anything, rather enjoy it.