Yeah right! This particular former bootneck is feeling [to paraphrase Quentin Tarantino] pretty f***ing far from Rooty Tooty. Last Sunday I did something fairly stupid involving a parrot cage, a door step and a power washer [please don’t ask or I’ll be forced to contact former colleagues who will exact revenge on my behalf]. Now I find myself sitting wedged against the wall trying to get some relief from the pain.
I have to admit that this post has been delivered to you under the influence of a large amount of Scottish Wine as it’s the only medicinal compound I have found that dulls not only the pain but the humiliation of crawling around the house on hands and knees. So, a bank holiday weekend without gardening or decorating – result! But no fishing either 😦