It’s sleeting in Stratford and the world is covered with a layer of ice, so the little bit of grocery shopping I had planned is out of the question. I have zero interest in tidying or cleaning, and I did the wash yesterday. That leaves sitting and reading until it’s time to make dinner.

The GoodLife company threw a large spanner into our works by closing the gym that Himself and I have patronized since August 2017. The space and equipment will be taken over by something called Fit4Less that costs less than Goodlife but — surprise! — offers fewer services and no programming. Consequently, I have been looking around for a fitness place that offers adequate facilities and helpful programs at a price I can afford.

My options were narrowed considerably by the fact that my wonky foot is now grumbling with every step, despite rest and new orthotics. That leaves me with swimming and exercising in water, so now I go to the Y.

The YM/YWCA is terminally uncool and, in daylight hours, full of arthritic fuddy-duddies. I’m going to love it. The swimming pool is kept near blood temperature and the showers have grab handles. Friday was my first day in aqua-fit, with a group of codgers and a trainer who looks about seventeen but definitely knows how to deliver a challenging core workout. Deep-water class is on Wednesday. I’m told it’s a can’t-miss affair.

Best of all: I don’t have to wear a bathing cap, there’s no loud pop music, and my feet don’t hurt after.