It’s the last day of November and the December cheer will be out in full force from tomorrow.
I’m late today as we’ve had a bit of a tilt this morning and didn’t get home until well after 3.30.
I pulled back the drapes to wet windows and rainy skies, but we’d already decided to do washing today and take it up to the launderette. We were therefore up by 8am as Hubby had a blood test this morning at 10.40, so we hoped to get the washing dry beforehand.
Two washloads today as we washed the throwovers on the settees, but we knew their dryers could take it and it would only cost about £1.90.
Sadly the dryer failed after 2 minutes, and we lost our money, so had to scrabble around in the car for some change as I didn’t have my handbag. Memories of looking for 2p to cover a shortfall and buy a newspaper many years ago immediately came to mind. I phoned it in and left a message with details of the faulty machine and our phone number.
Hubby had his blood test, and is back in range, though our lovely nurse is taking no chances and wants to see him again on Thursday.
From there, things started to go downhill as Hubby was in considerable pain around his operation site which was getting worse by the minute, so we ended up driving to the Urgent Treatment Centre 17 miles away as we know our surgery is useless.
He was seen more or less straight away, and although we were there for over three hours, he was given a thorough check up and Xrays. It is possible that a coughing fit over the weekend jarred a muscle which had been stressed during his surgery. The Xrays were clear and although they assured him there was nothing to worry about, if the pain gets worse, his belly starts to extend or he feels generally unwell, it’s an A&E job which is 45 minutes away. I can get him there in 40 provided there are no idiots or tractors in my way.
Knowing it would be way too late to do the chicken curry I had intended by the time we got back, we had lunch out. Terribly Not-Good-For-Us, but the flapjack sugar fix helped my headache and I did have brown bread for my roll with no spread to show willing…. sort of. We won’t mention the custard slice and sausage rolls when we got home.
The heated gloves we ordered last week were waiting on the doorstep in the hugest box imaginable, and the lady from the launderette had rung for our address and dropped £2 in our post box.