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I am beginning to think that my lower joints are riddled with crystallized uric acid. While my right foot continued to improve today, my right knee refused to get better. I guess the only good thing is that it isn’t my left knee. Then I’d definitely be immobile. At least I can still shuffle around the house, albeit like a wheeled Quasimodo, without the bells.
While the pain was ever present, there was a massive highlight during the day.
When KSP came over with her brood the other day for a fun night of bingo madness, she presented me with a little white, ceramic tub, tied up with a lovely red ribbon. She told me it was venison and chanterelle paté, the ingredients of which had been obtained from the woods near her house. She had then smooshed them all into an edible Christmas present.
And by the gods, it was fantastic. I had some for lunch today, on some knäckebröd and it almost made me forget my pain and woe. I’d love to say it was a miracle cure…sadly not, but it did excite my taste buds.
I would just like to say that this has to be one of the best Christmas presents for me now I’ve stopped drinking. People would often ask what they could buy me and wouldn’t accept my usual “Nothing is fine.” So I would suggest alcohol. They were often a bit squeamish about buying me booze but it was something I would enjoy. And it’s not like I need any more stuff.
Now, of course, I have to come up with another option. KSP has provided me with one. When someone asks what I’d like for my birthday or Christmas I will just say “Something homemade and edible, thank you.“
Unless, of course, they can afford a pair of robot legs.
I was home alone for most of the day. Mirinda went to a circus dance thing with Nicoline and Lena and Jason went for brunch with a friend. It was good to suffer alone. I hate being the invalid on the lounge. I’d make an awful Mrs Bennett.
Anyway, here’s my delicious lunch.
Thank you, KSP.
Oh, and Brigitte Bardot died today, aged 91. The sexiest of sex symbols.
