
Well, the good news is that herself had her first appointment at the fracture clinic this week and the break seems to be healing well. No surgery needed. Hooray. She also had some physio and lots of instruction, was told to ditch her wee sling and make sure to use her right arm as much as possible in a gentle fashion, no lifting anything heavier than a cup of tea. Really, it couldn’t have gone better. And she should be back in blogging action before too long.
To celebrate and to give the endlessly patient husband, man of all trades, cooking, cleaning, shopping, driving, washing, dressing and on and on, a break, Mo and B have arrived in Lichfield.

A change of scene and miraculously, fed and watered in time for a Zoom meeting…
It’s great to see them but whenever I have visitors, I realise just how singular I’ve become, how hand to mouth my day-to-day way of going is. I looked in the fridge and there wasn’t much there. There wasn’t too much of real interest in the freezer either, certainly not enough for more than one or two. Oops. Better make a shopping list, a long list.
Next on the to-d0 list was the cleaning and tidying. Downstairs was more or less playable thanks to the bridgers who come every couple of weeks or so, sometimes more often. So, although there’s not much godliness in this neck of the woods (plenty elsewhere, given that Lichfield was the spiritual centre of Mercia in the 8th century), there is a certain amount of cleanliness.
Mind you, I’ve just caught an unwelcome glimpse of that ghastly programme Four In A Bed (I think that’s the one) and seen how unforgiving they are when they spot a bit of fluff, an ingrained stain (heaven forfend) or, shock, horror, attack of the vapours, a stray hair in the shower or basin. Not forgetting the spiders’ webs in overlooked nooks and crannies. Do you think I could get away with playing the eco-friendly card?!! Aren’t spiders vital for the health of the planet?
The visiting bro-in-law calls me “our eco warrior” because I’m a bit of a one for sorting out the recycling, separating the cardboard, plastic, rinsing the bottles and tins….The bil (brother-in-law) is beyond sceptical about that and Dai did not approve of wasting what he used to call “liquid gold” i.e. water – “must you peel the potatoes with the water running…? I turned off the tap” …but that’s another tale altogether, a story that still cracks me up every time.

The question is how do we keep warm if burning is bad?
At the moment, this so-called eco warrior is feeling decidedly guilty because she hasn’t moved in to a tent and started to live on raw veg in a last vain attempt to save the planet. I’m sitting writing this in front of the log burner that is wonderfully cosy but not, apparently, terribly healthy for person or planet – too many emissions.
And, perhaps even worse, my gas boiler is on the blink and I’ve ordered a new one, putting my own warmth and comfort ahead of everything else. It doesn’t make me feel any less guilty that we could have been building cosy, eco-friendly houses for the last 25 years or so. That’s a quarter of a century but did we bother? Did we buggery. Frankly my dear, we didn’t give a damn.
Another thing I don’t care about? Football! Bloody stupid game. Who in their right mind would attempt to untangle the Sunday train timetable to go and watch Spurs lose at home to Ipswich, who hadn’t won a game all season? Moi?
Mais….oui. Of course.

No leaving early for the delirious Ipswich fans. Their boys, in a fluorescent pink that shone on a grey old day, did them proud.
First of all, Ipswich, aka the Tractor Boys, deserved it. They were very well organised, were first to virtually every ball and their goalie caught all our ill-directed free kicks and corners. We’re used to going 1-nil down in the first half but this time we went 2-nil down and couldn’t get back. Hey ho! Nothing for it but to plod on. And Pep’s lost four in a row for the first time ever!
I’ll spare you details of the journey. Suffice to say it didn’t go as planned and entailed driving to Milton Keynes and getting a train from there to Euston and beyond. That wasn’t the original plan – more like plan Y – but it worked, so that was a bonus. Result notwithstanding. And we did meet Totspur tragics who’d trekked all the way from south Wales, which made us feel a bit better; not alone in our craziness anyway.
There was a bit of golf during the week because the sun shone and two friends and I ventured out for a few holes; with mixed results. The usual some good, some not so good but we did solve a long-standing dispute – or at least let a fact get in the way of a long-held opinion.
“There’s no way that’s 150 yards,” my mate said, standing by the 150-yard marker (sorry, we’re a bit behind the times, it and the card should be in metres by now). “Mmmm. I think it probably is……” sez I.

You’re joking. That’s never 150 yards…Are you sure? Looks much further to me.
Fortunately, the pal we were with had a gizmo/doofer/device that measured the distance and after an inordinate amount of fiddling confirmed that it was, indeed, 150 yards – well 152 from where we were but the marker was right. At least that’s one problem solved. For the time being.

Leaves not lanterns. Lovingly strung together by artists from the local college. The picture doesn’t do it justice but they looked beautiful in the sunlight. Very clever.
So glad Maureen is healing well and u have a tidy house!
Enjoy your time together. Jane x
So pleased to hear Mo is recovering – sending my best wishes and good luck with the exercises. xx
Will do Jill, thank you. She’s very diligent re exercises, so that’s good. Hope you’re keeping warm – WHGC closed at moment xo
Thanks Jane, not so tidy now that my visitors have headed home but it was great to have them here xo