On Saturday I cracked my ankle on the corner of the dishwasher and made a tiny mark which bled a little. I mopped up the blood and thought nothing of it until evening when I found it had leaked some sort of colourless fluid into my slipper. Now this did worry me as I know that legs and injuries at my age don't go together without causing alarm.
The tiny wound leaked all night and all day yesterday. In an effort to dry the place I went around all day with my trouser leg rolled above it. But still it leaked and when I got up to the bathroom in the middle of the night it was still leaking, so I resolved to pop into our medical centre this morning to see Sister. But joy of joys, when I got up this morning it had stopped.
So I have had a really productive day. Lots of little jobs done for my visitors coming at the end of next week. Three loads of washing and ironing done, lunch cooked (and eaten).
During all this the farmer has been to a farm a couple of miles away to hire a giant 'muck spreader' from a friendly farmer we know and is now up and down the drive taking said muck to all the fields to spread now that all the grass has been eaten off. Then it has all winter to be washed in and do the grass some good.
After this blog I intend to print off the cover for the quiz sheets I compile to sell for our local Nature Reserve. I had got in quite a mess with my printer but thank goodness yesterday my son popped round and sorted it out for me. (took him less than five minutes, whereas I had been trying for several hours).
My son's friend, S, has been staying over the week-end. He lives alone and devised what I think is a super holiday for himself. He is a keen cyclist. He lives on the South coast and planned a week cycling around twenty miles a day then catching the train to some place where he had friends (or one of his daughters), staying the night and the doing the same the next day.
On Friday he caught the train to Garsdale (on the Carlisle to Settle line and the nearest it comes to here), got off there, misread the map and cycled to Dent - in the completely wrong direction. He then had to return the way he had come and then continued through Wensleydale towards here. He decided to make a detour (I told you he was keen)
by going over the Tour de Yorkshire route up the Buttertubs into Swaledale and coming here that way. Half way up the very steep incline to the Buttertubs his chain broke. He pushed his bike to the summit, freewheeled down to the bottom and the village of Muker, from where he rang my son, who collected him and his bike from there. He then had the chain mended on Saturday and left Sunday morning. My son took him to the top of the hill going South, from where he cycled to Otley for lunch with more friends before catching the train back home to the South. Quite an adventure. What it is to be young(ish)