Lots of knitting done today - caught up on the reknit of Boobalicious from Big Girl Knits. I'm dividing for the neck again and it's a bit like deja vu, except this time it will fit...I hope. I'm not frogging it again, if it's too small this time I'm finishing it and then finding someone it will fit and forcing them to wear it.
I only broke off to have coffee with a friend and drive her to work. K and I sat in Starbucks in linen skirts, sleeveless tops looking healthy and tanned thanks to that lovely Dove Summer Glow. We used the fair skin version as they didn't have one for women who-are-so-pale-from-the-winter-that-they-are-almost-blue. I had spent the previous evening sanding my unsuspecting feet with this, which I must hide away after use as it repulses the men in my life so badly, and painting my toenails bright pink in an effort to ready them for the start of the sandal-hunting season.
I used to have a serious shoe thing going on and liked to wear interesting shoes that displayed my tattooed right foot to best advantage, but a couple of years ago I broke that ankle and ripped some ligaments. My orthopoedic surgeon said I may regain a 'normal ankle shape' within 10 years!!!! but ONLY if I give up shoes that put my ankle at risk of turning over, because that would be likely to result in surgery, which (along with being painful and risky) would mess up my tattoo totally.
So, it's this kind of thing for me now:
Both nice, but these are the ones I really want.
Nevermind. (God, I loved ankle straps!)
I should worry about becoming old and decrepit though... Finally persuaded J to go see his GP today. He's been having 3 migraines a week lately and has also been having (unrelated) swelling of both knees.
Apart from annual bouts of Man Flu he's in very good health usually, and problems with his body worry him.
He won't talk about them though:
When we came back from Poland last year he had chest pain at the gate at Heathrow but decided not to mention it to me in case I 'made an embarrassing scene' by calling an ambulance. Instead he thought he'd get on the plane and die quietly in his seat! (with my last words to him being "What's up with you, you've got a face like a slapped a*rse?" Lovely memories that would have left for j and I...) Anyway, he finally confessed - after he'd driven us home from Newcastle airport!! - and a trip to A&E confirmed no heart attack, but lots of stress. (Funny, I wouldn't have expected that from four days with 4 flights, miles of walking, a visit to Auschwitz...)
So, today he confessed that he'd gone to see the Dr expecting diagnosis of a brain tumour and cancer of both knees, only to be told to get his eyes tested for age-related changes (he's 52), give up coffee (aarrgghh! He's latte man) and to wear knee supports for working - after all, what can he expect at HIS AGE after a youth spent falling off motorbikes onto his kneecaps?
In comparison, I feel quite young and fit today.