I twisted my sodding ankle yesterday morning. The sun was shining, I’d missed tennis due to precipitation on Sunday, it was a bank holiday, so the Wolf-man and I rescheduled our fixture to yesterday morn. Perfect. And it was lovely, and it was dry and it was sunny and warm. And all was swimmingly super and delightful until, with no warning, no reason, no fucking nuffink, my left foot just kind’a ‘went under’ as I went to play a ball. I heard/felt that revolting ‘crunch’ which any lifelong sporting no-hoper recognises as his/her ligaments getting fucked, and hobbled off to feel sorry for myself. The tennis was over, the ankle swelling. Bollox!!!!! We’re going to Venice next weekend, for some pasta, some cornettos, for loads of walking. Oh dear.

Picked up my latte, for medicinal purposes, for its healing powers, and went home for an ice pack. But ice packs are flat, which is useless as swollen ankles aren’t. That’s why God invented frozen peas. Though being a total princess about it, I selected the petits pois instead. Smaller, sweeter, better coverage round the swelling. Real athletes like petits pois. My new motto. As I sit here with elevated leg and strapped-on bag of Waitrose finest frozen.

I told Tai Chi Graham about it. He text me that I shouldn’t get involved in non-violent sports. You can get hurt. How true.

But life must go on. Ever the hero (read: schmuck) I soldiered on. Heroically. Only demanding that Mel do absolutely everything for me. Mel? MELLLLLLLL!!!!!! Can you pick up that thing that’s 3 feet away from me and put it in my hand, please? Even though you’re at the back of the garden pulling weeds and I’m upstairs on the bed.

We went to the movies last night. Already booked. Needed some more art in my life after Sunday’s debacle at the Zabludovicsz Collection. So we went to see Woman in Gold, the story of the painting (a proper, pitcher-type one, of a gel) by Klimt which was stolen by the Nazis in Vienna from a Jewish family during the war. Helen Mirren plays the woman who sued the Austrian government and… well I won’t spoil the ending, but its a happy one. And a fascinating story. One that doesn’t really endear you to the good people of Austria, either then or now.

And my leg barely bothered me at all. So sitting down doing nothing is obviously what the doctor ordered.

Mel? MELLLLLLL!!!!!

Happy swollen Tuesday

A xxxxx