I fell with great force into a hedge yesterday.
Think the bastard child of 'You've Been Framed' and 'Jackass'. I missed my footing, tumbled in mortifying slow motion, life flashing before my eyes, into the aforementioned hedge. This hedge surrounds the entrance to an expensive and lifestylee Garden Centre, so loads of beautifully turned out ladies-who-lunch looked on in horror as I cannonballed into the shrubbery.
You'd be surprised at the amount of damage you can do, landing in a hedge. I am black and blue, head to foot. And that's just my dignity. Morto. And I can tell you, it's bloody difficult to carry off a 'I, like, so meant to do that' walk of shame when your foot is throbbing and your shoulder is aching. And you find out later that you have half the foliage in your hair. (Kind husband picked it out.)
Though, all things considered, as the eldest Oubliette child said, 'At least the hedge was there...'
So, what do you do the day after you've suffered such a devastating injury? Yes, go up to your allotment and do four continuous hours hard labour. I am a stranger to good sense. But you see, we are taking a little trip abroad very soon, a bit of sun and rest, volcanic ash permitting, and I must leave my beloved plot in good condition.
The sun shone! Hurray!
Then it rained. Boo!
Then there was thunder. (I decided that holding a hoe at this point might be a bad idea.)
An actual steam train went by. That was very cool.
Then I had a cup of tea.
Yes, I did get a little snap happy with my camera phone as I waited for a particularly heavy down pour to ease. I wonder what the bloke in the next plot thought I was doing in my shed as my phone made very loud camera shutter noises...
But there has been some good news this weekend - The potatoes are growing!! Oh, I could faint from excitement...
So, now I sit here on the sofa, Mr Oub is running around putting the children to bed and cooking the dinner. It hurts a bit to type, but I carry on as I know my public is always desperate to hear my news. I only hope now that I won't be too sore to hail and hop on the Poetry Bus tomorrow...