Here I am again, same day. Little frazzled. Two confided to me in car on way home from Supermarket (yes-again), that he is still suffering from constipation. I told him I was under the impression all was well in that department, but he said unfortunately not. Must have misconstrued what he said. On return home Two phones doctor and makes appointment to discuss recalcitrant bowels. From sound of it, Semtex might be best option.
We spend a jolly (well fairly jolly) hour taking photographs to promote next excursion onto Youtube. As the song in question is called 'The Haemorrhoid Blues', I will leave the rest to your imaginations. Suffice to say I feel a little queasy. I e-mail the photos to Mission Control near Geneva, where daughter-in-law is busy clipping hedges with cordless rechargeable secateurs. She is multi-talented n'est pas?
It takes an hour to send all the photos, after which I partake of cup of tea and clotted cream scone,as am in need of Little Treat. Is now approaching 5.15pm and the bar downstairs is open, so next Little Treat will be Glass of White Wine.
Note to self. On way to doctors surgery tomorrow, must remember to watch out for simian husband of lady on bus. Feel sure he will be swinging through branches somewhere, lopping away merrily and totally disregarding Health and Safety. Feel I know him already.
Next note to self. Remember to get hair cut. Do something about the grey bits. Get arms ready for summer, if possible. Toodle pip.
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