Emma finds my swollen foot a very comfy pillow. Warm and puffy is clearly something highly prized by cockerpoos. And she’s very delicate about it. It doesn’t hurt. That happens when she climbs all over it.
And so, for me, it was another day spent reclining on the sofa, foot elevated and sometimes dumped in the special foldaway bath.
My day wasn’t completely wasted though. I managed to work on a few soldiers, laptop on my lap and pencil in my hand. It made me feel a little less useless.
It was very interesting being the invisible member of all of Mirinda’s meetings today. Usually I just hear bits and pieces as I’m not in the room but, given this is the only room we can both use, I’m part of meetings, regardless.
I have to stay really, really quiet, muffling chuckles and making a real effort not to say things. The latter is particularly difficult when it’s someone I know rather than the numerous disembodied voices I don’t.
Late in the day, I chatted with Dawn and Nicktor over Signal. Reading and Netflix with Dawn. Swollen ankle v gout for pain and subsequent whisky treatment, with Nicktor. It made a lovely change.
Their move has gone very well and while Dawn thinks it feels like going on holiday in the country, Nicktor has joined a group devoted to the study of post boxes. All good there then.
My foot salutes you, Cansfields!
