Self Portrait 16

My nose is definitely too big, bulbous is the word that comes to mind.

Or W.C Fieldsormous – if such a word exists; it does now.

So I wouldn’t say that my nose is my best feature.

But my legs?

I’ve always liked my legs.

Though today, trying to photograph them in an interesting way, they seem incredibly hairy.

But, as compensation, they run well.

Ok, the left one is carrying an injury, pulled muscle, from early in the year, the right one is sporting a huge blue, yellow, mauve and purple bruise from where a rock impacted after flying from the rear of the lawn mower a week or so ago – but they still take me for a good run most days.

They did at primary school where the 100 meter dashes were their happiest days, though Steven Hore was a strong rival – I think aged 10 we tied for first place on sports day.

Which was when Karren Wilmott started to be more interested in him than me.

Fickle!

Later, at scout camp – yes I passed that way – they took on the champion and pushed him to the finish. I confess to sitting after the race looking at them proudly, thinking they looked good in my baseball shoes.

I’ve never broken them – at a time, again primary school, breaking bones was a sign of coolness, but today I am happy they are still intact.

My school report at 14 shows an A in jumping – my legs achieved that!

They are not female legs - that’s sure - and I don’t think even a hefty shave and gossamer thread would fool anyone, but for me they are fine.

That’s probably more information than anyone really needs.