annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Falling down

If anyone's still reading I thank you kindly as here I come with more depressing shite. I fell over in the street yesterday, literally in the middle of the road, luckily a road which is banned to all but buses and none were moving at the time. I can't work out why I fell - I must have slipped or tripped or caught my foot on an uneven bit of road surface, but I have no memory of that part, just the falling, going over to the left and landing on my ankle, the one I fractured last summer, and it hurting like fuck when I stood up. People gathered round and helped me up, then I hobbled to the bus stop but couldn't walk from the end stop to my house so had to call Bloke to come and fetch me. Meh. And grateful and all, but meh and thrice meh.

Before then I had walked in a really strong wind and bumped into one of the residents from the care home, out and about in his wheelchair with a new care worker I didn't know. I called out to him, "Hey, is that Adam?" and his head spun round. "I'm Sammie's Mum, do you remember me?" His face lit up, a big beaming smile and he laughed. I told him it was good to see him looking so well, which it was, and we smiled at each other and it was a good moment which is why I'm writing it down, to keep it safe. I was somehow provoked into walking right down towards the home - I can't go in as they're still not allowed visitors - and it stirred me right up. Loads of places are boarded up, out of business, but the lovely cake shop where I used to buy brownies for the staff was still there - they were just locking up so I couldn't go in, but we passed a few words.

Today I've tried to rest, by which I mean I didn't go out walking but actually did some work in the garden, pruning roses with my new secateurs and burning all the bits in my brazier. I might get back into gardening, you never know.

Bed now as tomorrow I have an 8.30 appointment at the dermatology clinic about all my pre-cancerous lesions which I'm not treating. For the life of me I can't remember what happened to make me stop using the cream on my arm and leg, but they took photos of everything before so we can see where we are. Then on Thursday I'm booked in for a bone density scan to see if I have osteoporosis. It's a fucking laugh a minute round here, I can tell you.

Three Good Things
1. Burning shit in the garden, getting in the way of the smoke, smelling it in my clothes, feeling like a proper person. Having more to burn tomorrow - I got rained off today.
2. Another small Friday writing group - well, six of us, but much more manageable than twelve. I wrote about Bella and Paul again - I'll copy it out at some point. It was well received.
3. Bloke did another curry cook-along on zoom - lamb rogon josh which was delicious. he was tired and meh at the start, lots of sighing as he got things ready, but as he went along he got all enthused again. There's something about doing it alongside a proper chef, in real time, with the possibility of asking questions that is very reassuring. Last time his takeaway was that you just have to be patient with onions - they need to slowly go golden brown to add depth of flavour. This time it was to stop pissing about with the heat and turn it right up when told to do so, more than you'd think. This was at the point when the lamb and its marinade was added to the onions and spices - full gas, man, on the biggest ring. Bloke was amazed by this - how it all sizzled and spat, all the water poured out of the lamb and evaporated but the lamb didn't stick to the pan, and then you could turn it down to simmer gently. Aloo Gobi next time, which is potato and cauliflower. I might do that - I love how potatoes come out in Indian meals but I find they don't even cook in mine, so getting to the bottom of that will be worth the price of entry.

11:46 p.m. - 12.03.21

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