Post 444: Oh no… not again!
Did you stay up and watch it?
The football, I mean.
England versus Mexico.
I did…
Well, sort of.
I woke in darkness, the house was silent and I wondered what the time was.
Three o’clock.
Had I missed it?
Not quite.
I wandered downstairs to find My Darling, sporting fanatic that she is, propped up on a mountain of cushions on the sofa, holding her breath every few seconds before whispering, “Come onnnn England…” in that determined little voice she has whenever England are defending.
There were ten minutes of added time.
Ten!
Apparently there’d been a red card and England were hanging on with ten men while Mexico threw everything at them.
I never actually sat down.
I was in the kitchen boiling the kettle when the final whistle blew.
England had survived.
I handed My Darling a goodnight kiss as she carefully made her way upstairs on the stairlift for yet more enforced bed rest with that poorly calf, while I settled down with a mug of tea and a K-drama.
I may have missed most of the match…
…but I gained a good night’s sleep instead.
Not a bad trade.
⸻
I’d gone to bed ridiculously early, hoping I’d wake naturally for kick-off.
Instead I slept through almost all of it.
Perhaps my body knew better.
After a while I climbed back into bed, knowing today’s blog still had to be written before our Elevenses visitors arrived.
Some days these blogs seem to write themselves.
Others take three hours.
Yesterday was definitely one of those three-hour days.
Today’s story, however, turned out rather differently.
Our friends arrived mid-morning in their immaculate Volvo estate looking remarkably fresh considering there’d been football on through the night.
One of them is an accomplished referee himself, yet even he had sensibly chosen sleep over watching the match.
A wise decision.
I’d had breakfast, enjoyed a shower and was feeling surprisingly well.
We gathered around mugs of tea and chatted about cats, football, Volvos, rallies and all the usual things that old friends seem able to pick up without missing a beat.
They’d come partly because of the Volvo.
Or rather… because it had gone.
Talking about selling my Amazon is becoming easier.
Talking about Olive…
…not so much.
I could feel my eyes filling again.
I apologised, gathered myself together and, thankfully, the conversation drifted naturally onto happier things.
A homemade marmalade cake certainly helped.
What struck me afterwards was that these friendships were never really about old cars.
The Volvos may have introduced us.
But they’re no longer the reason we remain friends.
That thought brought me a lot of comfort.
Before they left, My Darling came downstairs to explain the wedding dancing injury and why she’s currently hopping around the house on one leg.
Then, after waving them off, my own day took an unexpected turn.
Let’s simply say…
My digestive system decided to become rather enthusiastic.
My appetite is back with a vengeance and I seemed determined to test its limits.
Cake.
Fish.
Bread.
Cheese.
Sweets.
More cake.
If it was edible and not nailed down, I was interested.
Unfortunately my stomach seemed to have other ideas.
I’ll spare you the details, but I spent rather more time visiting the smallest room than I’d planned.
Oddly enough, I don’t actually feel ill.
Quite the opposite.
I feel hungry, healthy and perfectly well.
It’s just that my insides seem to be having a lively debate about how much food they’re prepared to deal with.
Hopefully they’ll settle down again over the next day or two.
If not, I’ll mention it when I see oncology.
The good news is that my shoulder continues to improve.
T-shirts are no longer a wrestling match and I can finally see light exercise returning before too long.
My back, however, is still bothering me.
It’s a broad ache running along my spine which eases when I’m sitting upright in bed but makes itself known whenever I try doing much at all.
That one definitely deserves a mention at Thursday’s oncology appointment.
As each day passes we’re also getting closer to Mum’s ashes finally being laid to rest.
Four years.
It really is time.
I’m hoping we can all share a celebratory trifle afterwards.
That somehow feels exactly the sort of send-off she’d have enjoyed.
The weather promises another glorious week.
Hot…
Very hot…
…but I’ll happily take that.
Stay cool.
Take care.
Good night.
