Bu***r It – (and that is not Butter It)
I was all set to start out on Sunday, Dave was working away to get the final repairs done on Thebus and had even arranged to come in on Saturday to finish everything off, then Saturday morning I could hardly get out of bed my right knee was so very bad. I could barely manage to limp through to make myself a cup of tea, and even then only by holding on to anything nearby.
Plus the post operation infection, which started up a couple of weeks after I had been discharged, was winding up again.
I told Dave not to worry about putting me to the head of the queue for repairs as there was no way I would be leaving on Sunday as planned.
I had spent the last few days planning a bit of a tour of the West Country going down as far as Dorchester, and seeing a couple of teams of Morris Dancers performing traditional ceremonies on St. George’s Day and a Dawn May Day dance, plus slotting a few more places of interest on the way – ending up on Exmoor where a group of Great Dane owners were getting together for a weekend on a campsite where all their big babies could walk and play together.
But none of that seems in the offing now
With my knee so very bad, but the infection still there brother Mike had to come over to collect me, then ferry me to Ombersley, where more antibiotics were prescribed. Once again we had lunch at The Venture Inn, and once again I couldn’t resist the mushroom and white truffle soup. It is so good I really think I must see it I can get to Italy to give white truffles a thorough taste test.
I hadn’t had to walk with crutches for over a couple of years now, but the current knee situation demanded far more than a walking stick as a means of support. When I was able I rummaged around and found one crutch, but even that gave no-where near enough support, and always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. So it was online to trusty Amazon to get a pair of them delivered.
Phoebe simply had to be let out to rampage around by herself and in fact I didn’t make it down Thebus’ steps for over a week.
Still these things must be meant to be, and this morning – which is May 1st – was ushered in by a thunderous downpour of heavy rain from about Midnight to nearly Midday. Looking on the internet the weather appears to have been the same in Dorchester. So maybe going about a mile on my scooter an hour before daybreak, then staying outside in the pouring wet for a few hours, watching a torchlight procession (assuming the torches were not completely doused my the down-pour) before returning to Thebus with a thoroughly sodden Phoebe, with a not very well knee and incipient infection was not my best ever plan.
I try to always look for the positives wherever I can !!