A better day. I woke up in less pain and decided to build on that by getting some exercise in the hope that I can get back to yoga soon.
I wrapped my parcels and walked up to Oadby, which is the next town along and a 10-15 minute brisk walk from my house now. I was not doing a brisk walk. I was wandering around taking pictures of tulips and catching Pokemon so I didn’t feel I was on a route march.
I went to the post office and grabbed a sandwich before wandering around the charity shops. I finished by doing my errands and just as I was about to leave Poundstretcher the heavens opened and it sounded like the ceiling was about to give way. It was an almighty hail/rain storm. Just as I was about to message Jason to see if he was free to pick me up, he messaged me, offering to pick me up. This is one of the many reasons we are still married.
He gallantly saved me from drowning and I rewarded him by buying him two different sorts of wine gums, which are his current favourite. I bought a bag of miniature Wham bars from the pound shop. I fully expected to lose all my teeth but they have made them soft. Part of me appreciates that. Part of me misses the challenge of gnawing away at one and playing Russian roulette with dentistry. I managed to eat half a bag with no ill effects other than a slight sugar induced headache.
I worked in the afternoon and then took Ronnie to the V E T for his check up. It should have been Derek today, but she sensed the cat basket and disappeared and Ronnie was spark out, upside down on our bed, so he pulled the short straw. He was very dramatic on the way there, which was utterly wasted on me and also easy to bear because we now live less than five minutes drive from the vet, so he had just got into full throated uproar when we arrived. Even he looked quite nonplussed and it shut him up long enough for me to shove him through the door.
It’s Derek’s turn tomorrow, and no matter what happens, she has to go, so I had better be more flexible in the hip department by then. My walk did me good, but it’s very sore now. I shall waggle it about a bit before bed and see if that helps at all. Maybe there is a yoga routine for people with bad hips who need to catch cats? There is bound to be.
I cooked dinner. I cooked enough keema peas for us to be able to have it for dinner tomorrow night, so I am extremely pleased with myself.
I caught up with Glow Up, which I am thoroughly enjoying and Sewing Bee, which is always brilliant. I am mesmerised by Damien, who is a most compellingly strange man. This week he confessed that one of his hobbies is painting people but putting animal heads on where their human heads should be. They showed you a picture of two French bulldogs wearing Adidas tracksuits by a lake and it was indeed as he said it was. It was pretty good, technically speaking. I’d have to gouge my own eyes out if it was in my house and I had to look at it daily, but that doesn’t stop it from being inspired and a thousand times better than any bull dog wearing a tracksuit I could paint. Idyllic pastoral backdrop or not. He seemed very cheerful about this hobby, so it clearly does him good. I was also fascinated by, given the rich and gorgeous array of possibilities offered up in a week where they had to make a dress as an homage to Frida Kahlo, he put a lace trim on his boned corset to represent her eyebrows. I’m just glad he didn’t attempt Catherine’s Trotsky love affair dress or you just know it would have had to have incorporated an ice pick somewhere.
Also, I am now wondering if he went home after the series finished and is now the proud owner/creator of a triptych featuring Jo, Esme and Patrick but with dog heads. I think Patrick would be good as a wolfhound, Esme would make a fantastic pug and Jo would want to be a weimeraner but would actually be a sausage dog in a puffa jacket.