Monday Morning (part two) (on tuesday)

Now what? (continued from yesterday)

Well, spill some of that really hot tea onto my pyjama-ed leg for one thing.

Then, go for a swim in the pond for two thing.

Krissie bought a plastic floating lily-pad flower to decorate the pond and as I slipped into the cool water I noticed a large bumble bee had taken up residence in the centre; it will be disappointed.

And then some exercises, or was it the other way around?

Anyway I’m back here in the inside out room, or should I say out in the inside out room?

Who knows, there is never any one there to help you when you need.

Like for example – “what should I put on this burn?” Clearly no more hot tea, that much I know, but what about butter? I’m sure I saw something on television when I was a child that warned against this, but it may have been because it interfered with hospital intervention if it was required.

Though, for the life of me now I can’t remember how butter woukd cause problems for medical staff unless they had a lactic intolerance.

I could go up to the village where the guy-who-used-to-own-the-shop-but-retired-and-moved-to-a-house-across-the-road-and-sits-on-the-pavement-casting-an-evil-eye-over-all-who-try-to-run-a-new-business-there is renowned among the locals for his healing powers for burns.

But frankly just imaging him laying his hands on my thigh makes me feel ill, so I wont.

So I’ll just sit here and suffer until the pain fades, and try and write something that is not thinly disguised waffle.

In fact I do know what I am meant to be writing about, Mary reminded me in the latest issue of The Digestive (issue 5).

Kaboodle.

But I’m worried that in fact I may have nothing much worth saying on the subject.

Tomorrow?