Alan Partridge. Lunch. School memories.

Pretty sure I've got a broken toe.  I was negotiating the piles of toys and crap on the floor yesterday and kicked the hell out of it on the coffee table.  I tried to pretend it was ok until I awoke last night in a cold sweat.  Oh the pain, the pain of it all.

Today it has become an angry purpley blue colour and is alternately numb and painful.  I tried to take a photo of it for the blog but was frightened by the similarity between my foot and a close up of the gnarled talons of, say, a hobbit or other such hirsute creature.  My feet do not stand up to close scrutiny at the best of times, let alone when they are exhibiting a hideous purple swollen toe.

We had plans to have my old school friends D and L and their kidlets round for lunch so I soldiered on, even though I was possibly in danger of comporting myself a little like Alan Partridge did after he impaled his foot on a fence immediately prior to giving a keynote speech at the Dantes Fireplace sales conference.




Anyway I pulled myself together and we had a wonderful time.

Baby B and Baby O getting to know each other.  We successfully negotiated a suitable bride price from her parents.  I think several goats and a decent number of shekels should do it.

The children played quietly together, and after lunch we encouraged them to practice their piano scales and arpeggios, before we joined them in a singalong of rollicking showtunes.*

L, D and I reminisced about school (hi guys!).  D remembered how I dobbed on him for throwing water balloons at us, and I gently reminded him of all the good-natured ribbing he and his chum gave me in music class, mainly about my teacher Dad's crazy old blue Volvo, but also for making a teenage feminist statement by letting my armpits go free range.  Oh, the memories.  How is it that we are so old and brittle of bone now?

Anyway it was really a fabulous day, and I exercised my characteristic restraint by scoffing huge quantities of the delicious cheesecake L made.  It was delightful.

If it doesn't rain soon I don't know what's going to happen to the garden.  Rain, damn you, rain!  We've planted a whole lot of new things and if they cark it I will not be impressed.

Hello you Nasty Urchin you.

Lavender, with added rogue weed-type grass infesting it.  Die, you awful weed!

*Not an accurate representation of events.  See previous blog entries for explanation.  The square nanny may have been involved.