Moonspear yard waste

Beginning life anew, when you are middle-aged, is not as easy as it looks. No mood-lifting soundtrack in the background and your body has a nasty habit of reminding you that there are limitations to, what you can do. Even more - there are things you will never ever will be able to do. For the most part - Lele was this ripped-grandma type of person, who still runs marathons (at a modest speed), does age-appropriate weight-lifting in the morning and is perfectly capable of beating up a villain, who has horribly underestimated the strength of the that frail-looking old woman with a hand-bag (full with cat-food tins). She was in good shape and spring had been generous to her. Still - you accumulate not only experience and great stories over life-time but wears and tears of your body too. 

So for the past few weeks an ache in her left knee had gone from being uncomfortable to intolerable, making her grumpy and quite unwilling to socialize with people. The last thing she wanted was a bunch of bubbly, energetic puppies scrambling all over her. Lele did not hate kids, she really liked them, but at times like these, when pain severely limited, what she was able to do or think about, she did not want to have them anywhere near her. Which also meant that, while still technically part of the pack, she had very little knowledge of what was actually going on. 

Therefore it did come as a bit of a surprise, when she caught sight of the three-legged Mr Valour wandering around Moonspear, as if he lived here now. She watching him from the distance and then approached him, hobbling no worse on four legs than he did on three. "Mind giving directions to the doctor, who relieved you of your leg? I might need an appointment," she greeted him with a grin.