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Saturday, 30, 2002

maybe I should have an injury weblog too - keep y'all up to date with the ER-type situations I have to endure...today, I sustained a burn under my thumb nail. Quite a feat...but there it is: a blister which is taking something away from my thumb-sucking experience. Also, a contusion to my mid leg caused by a fake Regency occasional table in Fraser's. My new over-the-knee socks are keeping it in place (ie: stopping the poisonous bruise-fluid from seeping any further) but are causing me some consternation: are they 'sexy school-girl' or one step away from furred mono-boots or nylon velco-fasten booties?

Saturday, 23, 2002

dear god.....why have I decided that I like white wine? it is pure liquid evil. I look evil. I feel evil.

Monday, 18, 2002

right now we're watching Alan Partridge..last week Stan was practically oinking with so much laughter. I think I see myself in him, so my laughter is tempered with chilling fear that I am his female counterpart....shudder....

Sunday, 17, 2002

this seems like a really good site: inject a few ingredients in to the box, and the search engine behind the page will check out all recipes containing them in Google. Fab!

beetroot hummous anyone?

oh dear - Stan has just read my blood-drenched memoirs: "I don't think so!" he muttered (faint undertones of exasperation just evident). Well, Mr.Ten Fingers, do you know what it's like to be digit-less? Hmm. I thought not. It was his fault anyway - I was cutting some edam for his lunch. Ingrate.

Yesterday I attempted a novel new way of cutting cheese: I have now lost the tip of my left index finger - so typing this is both agony and a challenge: appreciate it dear reader. I have a big thick triangle of skin tenaciously clinging to the tip of the wound: underneath, there can be plainly seen the stuff that makes us mortal: blood muscle and sinew. Of course, in the neat irony that seems to criss-cross my life, I had painted my nails a sparkling and forboding red the night before..so the bloody slit segues into the oval of cruel claret.

Thursday, 14, 2002

well...I was born on the same day as Bonnie Tyler, the same day as Charles Dickens died, and the same day as Barabra Striesand appeared on "The Ed Sullivan Show" ..what day was I born?

Wednesday, 13, 2002

"what's the time, mr. wolf?"

"I can see in in your thighs you have eaten all the mince pies I made the night before.."

Monday, 11, 2002

oh woe is my trotter! the novelty of being able to justify asking Stan to do loads of things for me is wearing off - as it is for him too I must say. My pleeps and moans of (pathetic whimper here...) 'I need a cushion to put under my bad leg...' and 'some tea will help the muscles knit' don't seem to have the same pulling power of pathos as they did a few days ago.

Thursday, 07, 2002

ah...my babies are up and online! my honeys....my Catherine Wheel biscuits that I have bored folk to near-death with..

look....aren't they wonderful?

Wednesday, 06, 2002

well what a bloody laugh! ranting on about my trotter-fear one day - falling down stairs & hurting my ankle the next. tsk! better not write about any nasty infections! Yes, dear reader, last night whilst walking down into HillHead tube station and after my strength-building Pilates class, I fell down some steps. My foot twisted at right angles to my leg. It crunched. I heard it. Many folk saw. But...I had on the flattest shoes possible! Anyway, a lovely young man came to my aid, and I hobbled down the stairs after telling him I was fine. All the noise of the 400 people on the next platform (off to see the fireworks you see) went quiet. It was, I'm sure, what living in a tin would be like. I now know I can fight feelings of faintness - I should get a leotard and become an anti-collapse heroine. Pah! ooh my aching foot.

Monday, 04, 2002

Fears: what is it that scares you? spiders...snakes...bellybuttons..trotters? yes - I am terrified of getting trotters. Laugh if you wish: in fact, Dawn and Alison found it hilarious one afternoon in a sandwich bar in central Glasgow. But it is a genuine fear - that's why you'll rarely see me in periously high shoes without adequate ankle support. 'What are you wittering on about you idiot???' I hear you ask... well...its always struck me that one - when wearing high heels, could topple sideways, bending one's ankle at right angles to one's legs. This undue stress on the fragile bones and ligaments could result in some pretty serious tearing of the said bones and ligaments. Thus....one's ankle snaps, and the whole foot falls off in a flutter of sinew and splinter. The 'foot' is now a bony trotter...like a big cartoon ham with a cartoon bone sticking out of the end.

Isn't that terrifying?