Sunday, October 23, 2005

I've not exactly had an action-packed weekend but this is the first chance I've had to sit down and take the not-inconsiderable weight off my feet ( note to self, you do not have to cook that delicious chocolate creation every weekend regardless whether or not you have friends over).

I went on another fungi foray yesterday morning. I really should have gone into the office but then I get 50-odd chances a year to do that - the fungus season is very short. This weekend's group was much more my level, when presented with oddly formed mycological specimens, the guide was often heard to muse " hmm - not sure about that one, but I'd recommend you don't eat it!" Sadly he didn't recommend any we could eat so I had to call into the local farm shop on the way home and pick up some dinner-plate field mushrooms to fool Jack into thinking it had been worthwhile.

I was all set to dash back home, happily soggy from my stroll around the woods when I got a text message from Nigel saying he couldn't make dinner. That meant I had a few more hours so I went for my weekly constitutional around Tesco, planned on dropping the shopping off before paying a guilt trip to the office when Lisa rang on the Batphone and I was donning my super-hero waitress garb and heading out to control restaurant-goers and fillet steak. I used to think nothing of doing 12 hour shifts in my teens but even in flat shoes ( ok - flattish wedges) the aches soon start.

This morning was another elongated local derby game while we waited for yet another ambulance. That is becoming a disconcertingly common feature of our lads' matches these days. Big Nick had sprained his ankle falling off Little Luke's leg. Little Luke is now on crutches and may never walk the same again ( nor will the lovely Nige who piggy-backed Big Nick back to the changing rooms). At least we were only injuring our own players. The other team faired even worse when one of their team was brought down with a dislocated hip by one of his fellow players. We still lost.

I have spent the afternoon trying to instill discipline in my utility room. I had such strong resolve not to let the flipping ironing get on top of me again but it did on more than one occasion as I tried to sort out the festering piles. I suddenly realised the lessons in amateur fungi identification might not have been such a good idea. Ignorance is bliss when you open a rugby kit bag that has lain in the boot of the car for 3 weeks! But at least I knew the Latin names for some of the slimy growths and could use them in my lecture to Jack about home management.


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