Our great granddaughters slept over on Saturday night so I used them as an excuse to watch Mamma Mia on DVD. The girls and I have been to see it twice in the cinema so we pretty much know all the songs of pat. OG pulled faces when I suggested we put it on but he actually loved it (as I knew he would) and the girls and I sang and danced all the way through it. That's about as good as it gets isn't it?
Sunday was not such a good day. I fell and spent most of the afternoon at A&E. Luckily my ribs were not broken but they are very, very painful. It was so silly. On my way back from loading the washing machine in its temporary 17 month old home in the garage I twisted my foot on a small piece of gravel in the drive and over I went.
The charming doctor was very sympathetic and asked if we lived in a bungalow because so many old people are prone to falling down stairs. The bastard obviously hadn't realised that I’m only a 19 year old cowgirl inside, but as I have been reading a new self improvement book and was on my best behaviour I refrained from pointing this out to him. He then drivelled on that maybe I should consider getting a stair lift and I should, at least, take more care. Me! With my new Hollywood bedroom! How romantic is to go upstairs on a Stannah Stairlift. I think not!
Then, came the ultimate insult. Pointing to OG he said “whereas your husband, being a very fit, agile man with no spare weight, would not have hurt himself if he had fallen”. Full-marks to me for not decking the self-righteous misguided smug SOB.
Here is s photograph of my fit husband preparing the new home for the laundry machines and, I might add, not a day too soon!
And finally …… I'm not a complete idiot -- Some parts are just missing
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