I awoke this morning with a sore mouth and an aching back. “Come on Jackie, you’ll be fine once you’re up and about” I muttered to myself optimistically. Just goes to show how wrong you can be.
Call me paranoid if you like, but I get the feeling that the men in my life don’t like me much.
You may remember these:
My lovely Mountain Horse Protector Boots. Gorgeous aren’t they? You may also remember that I ordered a new pair, made by a different company. Well, they didn’t fit, so I sent them back before Christmas and have a pair of Mountain Horse boots on back order. So, I’ve been wearing second bests – a pair of very, very expensive Caterpillar boots. My sis-in-law bought them, didn’t like them, couldn’t be bothered to return them, so I inherited all £129 worth of them. They’re all singing, all dancing, with steel toe caps and sheep wool linings, but are not as comfy as my Mountain Horse boots. I put them on this morning and felt something sharp in the left boot. Assuming it was just a little piece of grit, I couldn’t be bothered to take the boot off, so just shook the boot, to move the grit out of the way and continued on my way to take Jasper to the paddock. Jasper wanted to go to church; I realised this when he went left and I went right and my right foot got the benefit of his left hoof. My all singing, all dancing safety boots didn’t live up to their title and my toes got crushed (and it was only on soft grass)!
I bet you’d love to hear me say that I looked ridiculous limping to church in my high viz and jolly bobble hat. Well I didn’t, because the purported ‘little bit of grit’ suddenly dug sharply into my left foot, so I didn’t limp because each foot hurt equally; I took mincing little steps instead, or would have, except Jasper was a man on a mission, so I winced and minced and strode when pushed, and wondered if there was any part of my body that didn’t hurt.
I planned on leaning against the wooden bench on the church car-park, so that I could take my left boot off and give it a shake. Except Jasper wouldn’t stand still, so after several failed attempts at a pit stop, I had to grin and bear it. Once home, I took the boot off and everything clicked into place. “Did you lose anything when you were fitting the new kitchen light yesterday?” I asked hubby. “Er I can’t remember”. “Why are you walking funny?” said hubby. “Because I found this in my boot, or would have, were it not embedded in my foot” said I, showing him a brand, spanking new and sharp brass screw. For some reason, hubby found it hilarious. I reminded him of my Dad’s remark upon seeing hubby’s new sweatshirt, which has ‘Soul’ emblazoned on the front. “You need an ‘r’ in front of that” said Dad. Wise old thing is my Dad:-)