It should be the Fox's day today. It's his birthday. Much to my surprise he fancies going to the garden centre this afternoon- to satisfy his urge to have a go at some veg growing. We may even pop into the furniture warehouse next door to see if we can find a new dining table. We fancy a round table. It would fit better into the dining area of our new kitchen.
It's certainly not my day. So far it's been a catalogue of misadventures. I'm cooking something special for his birthday - a homemade chicken pie. Here the problems start. I put the pie in the hot oven, catching my bare finger on the hot shelf. Result one burnt finger, stinging badly.
After the pie has completed cooking I venture into the garden to check my washing which is hanging out to dry. I miss my step & land sprawled across the crazy paving. It takes a little while before I can move to tackle getting up. Fortunately my chin doesn't look too bad. My hands are going to be a beautiful colour in the next few days. I didn't quite break the skin though there is a bit of grazing. As for my knee... Once inside I nervously take of my knee brace. I would be wearing the one that doesn't cover my kneecap. Again no broken skin but the bruise is going to be even more vivid I suspect. So I'm now hobbling around, aching knee, sore hands.
To cap it all, as I write this, the house has just shaken badly accompanied by a loud sound as of thunder. I hastily hobble to check the Fox hasn't fallen out of bed. No, he's all right. I'm left to suspect there's been a small earthquake somewhere & we've had the aftershock. What next?
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