I am typing slowly because (again!) I have damaged my hand. Did it on Sunday. By accident.
I was putting some Christmas lights up in the front garden (just a few, looped over the rose arch, nothing ostentatious) and had left a window in the sitting room open so I could feed the plugs and wires back inside.
So far so good.
Then I went to go back outside and finish off tying the lights securely. This entails opening the hall door, walking though into the porch and then opening the front door. I did all this, and the draft from the open window blew the hall door so it slammed shut on my hand.
Fuck me it hurt.
It actually made me sick with pain, a new experience for me. I thought I had broken at least 2 fingers but after an hour or so I realised that I hadn't. I have a startling deep purple streak across my fingernail and bruises on the fingertips. Looks impressive.
And I am now typing with index fingers only, just like the good old days.
Other news. Family party was lovely, although rather distressingly I found out that some of my nieces and nephews read the blog. My language has caused dismay it seems. I was previously the "good auntie" apparently. Heh.
Fucking rat is back too. He seems to be ignoring the poison in the trap, and is eating the fallen bird seed. I think I might get down to Mole Valley Farmers and buy some "Little Nipper" rat traps. I swear, the damn thing waits till the second Mr WithaY's Landrover pulls away, and then emerges, taunting me.
The other day I was in the kitchen and I saw it run out from under the shed, grab a fallen apple from under the tree and then HOP like a tiny kangaroo on its back paws, carrying the apple. Incredible.
Was bloody fast too.