…there’s the fact that I’ve read more fiction* in the past few days than in the past year (3 a day and rising). And now I’m chuckling at all your comments.
On the minus side there’s the pain. At the risk of offending around 30% of you, I think I might have had a glimpse of the pain involved in childbirth. And many of you have more than one? Sheesh.
Fingers crossed, it seems to be easing a little. It only took two hours to get downstairs this morning and I’ve been able to sit on the sofa, venturing out on little walks across the room without the zimmer (actually, this is more like our homemade version). I’ve got the number of a highly recommended ch*ropracter but she’s away until Tuesday – even if the pain has gone (oh please, please, please), I’ll still make an appointment and get some advice. Might even start gentle yoga. I hear that there’s a good Yoga for Wrinklies class nearby.
Two Mexicans have been lost in the desert for weeks. At death’s door, they see a tree in the distance. As they get nearer, they see that it’s draped with rasher upon rasher of bacon: smoked bacon, crispy bacon, life-giving nearly-raw juicy bacon, all sorts of bacon. “Hey, Pepe” says the first Mexican, “ees a bacon tree! We’re saved!!” So Pepe goes on ahead and runs up to the tree. As he gets to within five feet, he’s gunned down in a hail of bullets. His friend drops down on the sand and calls across to the dying Pepe. “Pepe!! Pepe!! Que pasa hombre?” With his last breath Pepe calls out, “Ugh, run, amigo, run, ees not a bacon tree, ees a ham bush”.
Q: How many Welsh academics does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Four hundred and one. One to change the bulb and 400 to sit on a committee in Aberystwyth to come up with a word for “filament”.
Boom Chicago’s Electronic voting machines in Florida.