Adventures, and more babbling....

Mondays always start with a very hard physio workout. Seriously, my friends, I stagger out of there wondering how I am upright and moving, but I really love going, and getting to that stage, because I am getting stronger, and I did 10 of those rises yesterday. The physios also like the fact that I want to push myself, and that I shut up about the discomfort! I know I have to do it. If I could go every day, I would. I just try to work as hard here at home, and get to the "can't move" stage and then I think I have done enough. Twice a day.

Back to yesterday. Jean, Margaret and I had planned a visit to Olney, the market town in Bedforshire I went to last Saturday. Olney, by the way, appears to be pronounced Owe-nee. Do not ask. This is Britain. Bicester is Bister etc etc etc.... And for the first time in ages, I nearly took my Leki pole with me, because I was so unsteady and hurting, but then I thought....coffee. I can recover while we sit and chat, and indeed that is what I did.

Here is Olney for you to see. Lots of cars in the Market Square made photos somewhat random, but you can see a bit, I think. There is a weekly market held in the square, but obviously not on a Monday!

The buildings are all old, very different and very quaint, and as I have said, small and unique shops everywhere.

And one of the best bits about old market towns, is the fact that you can find things hidden down tiny alleyways. This is one of my favourite ones here. Rose Court. And believe me, it is well hidden. Margaret had never found it before!

So you walk down the little alleyway, and you come into a beautiful open space, with wonderful shops and the best restaurant in town too.

In the summer, this is packed with people enjoying their meals outside. Lovely flowers and ....well, it is just great!

And Margaret (who is also my Garden Fairy!), Jean and I headed straight for the restaurant and relaxed over coffee and calories which we will not discuss at this point. Excellent.

This is Margaret. One of my lovely friends.

And if you look, way down the courtyard between the red and brown buildings, the path goes on, and at the end is the best place. My favourite craft shop. The home of the Cuttlebug, which, may I add, I patted, but did not buy. Yet. This time. Even though it was £20 less than the last time I saw it. Sigh. But enough of that.........Jean and Margaret leaving the restaurant. Before we spent a good hour and a half in the craft shop. We needed to build up our strength, hence the calorie intake. Of course.

And back to Margaret's home for a lovely lunch time soup and yet more chat and laughter.

So that was yesterday. In pictures. I managed to leave a £1.50 roll of wrapping paper in the craft shop. We have decided that it was divine interference, and that I must be destined to own that Cuttlebug after all. I will have to go and collect my paper, won't I.....and you never know, it may just leap into my arms and beg to come home with me. Watch this space.

And on to today....

This morning started with a sudden leap out of bed, a random throwing on of clothes and a rapid hobble down the stairs, as the doorbell had woken me from a deep sleep. At 8.45am. The man had come to read the electricity and gas meters. I cannot describe the hair... I looked like a scarecrow. And it was not quite how I like to present myself to the wider world, I can tell you. He did, however, tell me that my electricity meter was reading "very low". Eureka! After all the hassle of having to get a new meter, I am delighted.

So I crawled back into bed, watched a little tennis on TV, and drank a cup of hot coffee, and then decided I was ready to start the day. Breakfast was served at 11am. It is a little difficult trying to eat 3 proper meals. The tablets, you see, have to be taken with meals. Some of them. Sigh. As you can see, I am firing on all cylinders. But the exercises were done while watching Roger annihilate his opponent, and that was good.

And, as this is turning into a total ramble, we need to talk about my new-fangled hair flattener thingamebobs. They are small. As thin as a ruler. My old ones, sadly now permanently resident in Switzerland, (sob), are big. They are about 3 inches across and the iron part is about 6-8 inches long. AND they had a big scissor like handle, which keeps fingers away from heat.

The new ones?? Hah. They open and close like a V. And I BURN my hand whenever I use them, and it takes 1089756578 times longer because the poor little dear cannot cope with more than 3 strands of hair at a time. And then, what is worst of all, my hair stays straight for approximately 10 seconds. I am not happy. Especially when I could have bought one and a half cuttlebugs for the price of these ridiculous things. Hairdressers swear by them. I know why. Their clients get so ticked off by them, that they roll in the door and beg for professional attention on a twice weekly basis. Just like I am tempted to do this second.

And now I think I will go and bake a carrot cake.