Fiona's Quiet Life

Blessed is she who has noth­ing to say and can’t be per­suaded to say it.….….….….

I used to have that on a notice beside my phone in the 1970’s, my mother took excep­tion to it for some reason, though it wasn’t aimed at her , more at me to remind me not to gos­sip, though i don’t, mearly because i never remem­ber it and i have more import­ant thinks to be think­ing about …like chocolate.

any­way

my life per­force has been quiet.….….….not that quiet, it is amaz­ing what you can get up to with a broken ankle

i could be doing use­ful things like sort­ing through boxes of bits and pieces that one col­lects like pins, screws, door knobs, bits of string etc etc.….….….….…but i haven’t i have been play­ing on-line com­puter games and dis­cuss­ing the weather with other bal­loon pop­ping play­ers all over the world, mostly America.

you see grubby bits of the house from a dif­fer­ent angle when in a wheel chair and it is great for clean­ing kit­chen cup­board doors, i may do all future house­work sit­ting down. and chan­ging the beds is easy .….……you sort of fling your­self across it to tuck in far corners.

even went to the salsa class and sat doing all the steps with one foot and waiv­ing the other in the gen­eral dir­ec­tion of the cor­rect step.

the foot is heal­ing very well and fast , went last week for stitches out and Xray , they were pleased with it., it feels so good that i for­get that i can’t walk and fall over try­ing to open the cur­tains or some­thing daft like that..the most pain­ful thing is blisters on the palms of my hands from the crutches.….…..a great excuse for sit­ting still.

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