Pretty in Pink

Lordy, I got bored. Just as well I was only in bed for a day and a half. Imagine how many other things I would have bought on the interwebs if I'd been there any longer?


Eric Bompard: 70% cashmere; 30 silk, winging its way to me.

Seriously, now the weather HAS to warm up.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks

Still pretty much bed-bound, though my ankle seems to be improving. OK, so it's still huge and purple, but I can hop a few metres (on my other leg, of course) without agony. And I've been able to observe that hopping engages core muscles (obliques) - mine hurt!

Sadly, being crippled doesn't mean I can't work. But it does mean I can't do housework. This should be delightful, but actually I'm just dreading the chaos that awaits when I do surface ... Spouse is a reluctant nursemaid at best and his aspirations are even lower when it comes to domestic duties. Sigh.

Kid 2, bless, is trying to wait on me hand and foot.

After 24 hours of this, I am already totally sick of it. How long does it take to get bedsores? Tomorrow I am going to investigate crutches.

Sense and Sensibility

It is very Jane Austen, is it not, to sprain an ankle? It sounds like such a ladylike injury.

Today Kid 2 and I set off to take Scout, the Big Dog, for a walk. Along the way we bumped into the father of Kid 2's best friend, also walking their dog. The dogs, big and small, hit it off and it was all quite jolly. Then, as I was strolling along, Scout barrelled into the back of my left leg and sent me crashing to the ground. After some swearing (but no crying, I must have been in shock) from me, we established that walking was out of the question, so Friend Dad went off to get his car and kindly got me home. I must say that being 'rescued' by a gentleman is more embarrassing than romantic. Although perhaps I would have enjoyed it more if it had been Alan Rickman (see above pic).

My ankle has now swollen to about three times its normal circumference. Handily, my FIL is a retired doctor, and very nice, so he popped round and had a look. Although there's obviously no major fracture, there may well be a small stress fracture, and there is probably some serious ligament damage. I will be going for x-rays tomorrow. He said I could potentially expect several weeks of 'bother' from it; my brother, who has busted an ankle twice, recommended crutches and opiates.

I hopped down the stairs to the bathroom a couple of hours ago (only two rooms in our house are on the same level, which I usually think is quite amusing) and almost passed out from the pain.

There are occasions on which I have fantasised about being bed-bound so that I could just read in peace. Careful what you wish for, indeed.

But, looking on the bright side, I have books, my Kindle, my iPhone and my netbook, so I'm not exactly isolated ... just a bit stuck.

The No 1 Ladies' Detective Agency

There is a festival on at the Opera House this weekend called the Festival of Dangerous Ideas. I suspect it sounds more daring than it really is. We are being exceptionally un-daring and going to listen to Alexander McCall Smith talk about the idea that 'society is broken'. Although his books are quite charming, I worry sometimes that concepts of a 'return to old-fashioned values' can be rather reactionary. We shall see.

While we are being exposed to potentially dangerous ideas, Kid 2 is off to see the stage show of Mary Poppins with her grandma. I find that quite amusing.

After the shows, we shall have oysters and champagne - although possibly not outdoors as it is RAINING AGAIN (yes, I am shouting, I'm very unimpressed) before heading home.