Sock it to me

Big excitement tonight on the train on the way home.

The guard made an announcement asking for "any qualified medical personnel to make their way to the middle of the train". A young chap leapt to his feet in the carriage I was in and dashed off down the train, while all the female passengers looked admiringly at him, and the blokes scowled enviously.

After a couple of minutes the guard came into our carriage asking for chocolate in a panicky way, which a lady was able to provide (not me, in case you were wondering). After another few minutes the guard announced over the intercom that we would be slightly delayed at Andover station because the train was being met by an ambulance.

So, probably a diabetic having some sort of problem, I assume, unless it was a heart attack and the guard was coincidentally really fancying a bag of Revels.

Anyway, the dashing young chap then came back to his seat and smiled modestly whenever anyone caught his eye. Hopefully whoever it was that was taken ill will make a speedy recovery.

Other news, on a semi-medical related note: I have a bloody huge blister on my left heel.

I wore my new bargain boots (half price at Jones, black, low heel, excellent with trousers, ideal in all respects till today) to work yesterday. Walked from Waterloo to Victoria with no problem at all. Comfy, non-slip, easy to scamper across roads in. Perfect.

Wore them today, did the same walk from Waterloo to Victoria, and ended up rubbing about five hundred inches of skin off my heel, right down to the bone. I think I might even have worn away some of the bone as well*. It's hard to tell.

I think it's because I had different socks on, and they were a bit thinner. Bloody annoying though.

So, I will be limping around at home tomorrow in my slippers, whimpering in between doing work on my laptop.

I like having a plan.

Mr WithaY, who is a complete star, made the most fab dinner this evening. It was a roast chicken which he had covered in rose harissa spices. Mmm-mmm. Highly recommended.

I did a huge traditional roast lamb lunch on Sunday while our mates were here. Which was nice. My Yorkshire puddings worked brilliantly, though I say so myself. Was great to see them again (the mates, not the puddings). Their mad spaniels performed the traditional "trashing of the WithaY rosemary bush" ceremony. It's like Morris dancing, but for dogs.




*Bloody well feels like it.

Hurty paw

Gah! Am typing with one finger encased in huge plasters, after almost slicing the tip off with the world's sharpest knife. Arse. It was so sharp that I didn't realise I'd cut myself for a few moments...it made a horrible "meat slicing" noise and I thought I'd cut the washing up sponge thingy. But no. It was me.

Bled for absolutely ages. Was starting to think I'd need to go to Casualty and get stitched, until I remembered that I have no idea where our nearest Casualty unit is...might entail a 50 minute drive to Salisbury. The strategic application of a wet tea towel and some elevation* sorted it out.

Other news: Been to the Wood Fair at the Larmer Tree Gardens today.

I know, I know. Cheese, Wood, what don't we see at Fairs round here? Took pictures, which I will share in due course.

On the way home we called in to look at carpets for the bedrooms and stairs (how much more exciting can this get, you wonder?), then went and bought teak oil and woodstain. And THEN we repainted the shed, a seat, a fence (and my camellias) and oiled all the garden furniture ready for it to go away over the winter. What busy bees we are.

Off out tonight for supper, watching the rugby with some of our lovely neighbours. Which will be nice, as we're both knackered now after all our painting and oiling activity, so somebody else making us a meal is very welcome.

Still unbelievably tired though, and feeling a bit low and weepy as a result which is a shame. Yesterday was a significant family anniversary, which made the day feel a bit odd and sad. So, a few glasses of wine and some cheerful company is just the ticket tonight.

Even with a big bandaged finger. And green woodstain all over my arms.

*i.e: holding my arm over my head, rather than climbing onto the roof of the shed. Anyone walking past our house at the time might have concluded that we are Nazis, though.