My Life on a Plate

Click Tap Click Tap

Before the dawn of Blogville, in the far off days when WDC was just a quiet place to store writing, I really could have done with a place like this to vent and swear in private. As it was it was often the bathroom, the garden gnomes or the U-bend that suffered my abuse.

You see, back in 2001 hubby had a hip replacement. To cut a long story short, it went wrong...twice. This involved removal of the hip joint, three hipless months, replacement of the hip joint, rejection, removal of the hip joint, six hipless months and finally a successful hip replacement.

Now before you start sympathising with the hipless one, spare a thought for poor wickle Scarlett. Not only was I totally responsible for every household task, shopping and waiting on his lordship, I had to contend with the sound of crutches for eighteen solid months. Actually, there were several pairs - Colin and Crispin, Carl and Claud, Cuthbert and Clifford to name but a few. But I digress...oh look a chicken.

To this day I can recognise the click tap, click tap of metal crutches from miles away and break out into a cold sweat at the sound of them.

Well, today they are BACK. Hubby had his minor knee op this morning and was back in his throne by 11.30am. I had to go shopping and visit my parents but when I arrived home the first thing to greet me in the hall were a pair of shiny brand new metal crutches. I'm still trembling from the shock and may need alcoholic sustenance later to steady my nerves.

I only pray there will be no complications following this operation and said crutches, as yet nameless, will only be staying a short while. Otherwise there could be a blubbering, stark raving lunatic taking over this blog. What do you mean you wouldn't notice the difference?

So tomorrow at some unearthly time, I'm escaping to London with my friend Joy until Sunday. Don't go worrying about old Hopalong; he'll be fine and son will help out if needed. I swear he arranged this operation to make me feel guilty for leaving him.

I may be tempted to stage my own death to escape the crutches and domestic bondage. If there is no blog from me by Tuesday, you'll know I'm setting up a new identity somewhere in the hustle and bustle of our capital city. But I suspect it will be business as usual come Monday; he'd find me even if I set up home on Venus, despite Mars being his birthplace.

Still not downloaded those Crete photos but I'm sure you can wait a few more days. Have to go now...son is taking us out for a meal. I hear hubby getting ready...click tap, click tap. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.