I managed to duff myself up good and proper last week. To fall over once can be seen as unfortunate but twice in the space of 2 days? Definitely careless or maybe it’s age creeping up on me. Both body-bashing incidents happened whilst I was running, the first left me with a swollen ankle and the second, scraped knees and bleeding palms – the latter already sore from pulling nails out of chairs. I could blame my stupidity on a wandering mind, part of the reason I love to run is to sort out all the busyness in my head but the more likely culprit is the ground on which I landed. No rain makes for loose shingle on dry, parched chemins. It may be cooler now with the temperature finally thinking about Autumn but the wet stuff has yet to make even a brief appearance.
Having said that, I wouldn’t mind if we had just a few more days without it pouring as we are closing the pool in the coming days and I have the onerous task of scrubbing down the decks and painting on the preservative. I’ve managed to sparkle up the longer edges without too much interference from the still too skinny Arry but the rest will have to wait until Roy, Denis and I can heave the heavy winter bache up from its sleeping quarters and put the summer one in its place. The boys and I are well-rehearsed in such manoeuvres so once the steel bars are bolted down and the rattan furniture piled up in the old hen house, I can finish what needs to be done wood-wise and say ta ta to the bloody thing until next year.
As I mentioned, the digits have dropped to more October-ish degrees – that is to say the mid 20’s which are closer to the norm and not the 30+ we had in the previous week. Whilst it hasn’t quite got to the wardrobe-switching stage, bikinis and shorts have been exchanged for jeans and the occasional jumper. I’m still wearing flip-flops though. And, if Friday night’s meal over at our friends, Felix (the harmonica player) and Sylvie’s place, salads have given way to carbo-laden comfort foods. Piles of home-made pasta followed by crème brûlées and cream-filled cake were shown appreciation whilst we talked the night away over most of their wine stock. Between that wonderful calorie-laden soiree and last night’s usual over at chez Abraham, I’m going to need those hills next week – knee pads and ankle straps if necessary.
You will relieved to hear, or at least I was, that I didn’t go to Denis’ brother’s funeral on Wednesday. His daughter, Marina, suggested that seeing all the family weeping might bring back awful memories for me – it wouldn’t have but I was grateful for the thought. And that I wouldn’t have to wear a hat. I have a nasty habit of drinking too much at such events and since I didn’t know his brother, I would have felt awkward being there. As for the memories, Tony is never far from them and I’m sure that he’s protecting me from the not so great ones. Mind you, I wouldn’t have minded a little heads up before I up-ended myself par terre…
“Jogging is very beneficial. It’s good for your legs and your feet. It’s also very good for the ground. It makes it feel needed.” (Charles M. Schultz)
Widow plus woofs 