Month: October 2019

Too Early

November 5th – “Fireworks Night” here in the UK – isn’t far away now.

And yet, we have have seen (and heard) plenty of fireworks in the sky, already. Probably since the end of August, I would say.

Of course, one could argue that people who are having parties in the latter half of the year, are just spicing up their celebrations by taking advantage of the fact that fireworks are now readily available.

I don’t see that myself. Pyrotechnics are available 365, nowadays. We have a shop near us that sells just fireworks and it is open all year round.

No, I think that some people just cannot wait.

Like those who already have their Christmas decorations up: I’ve seen at least half a dozen houses so far, that have been bedecked in flashing lights and wotnot, in readiness for celebrating the birth of the baby Jesus.

In October!

And I was shocked, saddened and annoyed during the last week of September, when I was doing my weekly food shop and found that all the bread had been moved, to make way for… mince pies.


And (whilst I am in a moany mood) what’s with the TV presenters all wearing their poppies already?

Too early… way too early.

Ouch 2

We were sitting watching Strictly on Saturday night, when I felt a strange tingling sensation on my right foot.

Within a couple of seconds, that changed to a searing sensation of pain.

I looked down to see that I had managed to knock over the freshly-made, boiling-hot, cup of tea that Amelia had just brought in… all over my foot!

“Ow ow ow!” I ripped off my soaking-wet sock, but the pain continued, so I hopped and hobbled as quickly as I could to the downstairs loo and tried to squeeze my size 11 plate into the world’s smallest hand-basin.

“Ow ow ow!” The cold water didn’t seem cold enough to be doing anything. “Quick!” said Mrs M to Amelia, trying to show concern, but  at the same time not take her eyes away from Emma and Anton’s Paso: “Quick, get a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer!”

We didn’t have any frozen peas, so I had to make do with Curly Fries.

It  wasn’t helping much and after a short while the fries started to warm up, so they went back into the freezer and out came a bag of Chicken Fillets.  Surprisingly, frozen chicken fillets don’t mold themselves around the toes that well!

I spent the remainder of Saturday evening with my foot in the washing-up bowl filled with cold water.

This time, I remembered to take a photo.  I’m sure you’re all pleased about that!


Last weekend, I was rummaging in the bushes, trying to find an illegal immigrant (a true, but rather dull story).

I never found him, but when I emerged from the brambles and bracken, I was covered in thorns. Most were caught in my Peter Storm fleece jacket and Extra-Tuff hiking trousers. However, some were stuck on my hands and I pulled them out, gingerly.

One particularly large one was embedded right on the knuckle of my hole finger and I winced as I pulled it free. There was a little blood, but I thought nothing more of it.

Until a few hours later, when my finger had swollen considerably and I couldn’t bend it. It was sore as hell and woke me several times in the night with its throbbing.

Mrs M looked at it in the morning and said I should go up to the hospital. No way! I wasn’t spending half of Sunday sitting in A&E with a poorly finger, whilst ambulance staff hurried past me, carrying people with serious injuries: limbs missing and bits of their brains hanging out; zapping their  chests with defibrillators… “Clear!”

At least, that’s what I imagine  a typical Sunday morning at our local hospital to be like.

And so, I grinned and I beared it.

And then I stopped grinning, because it bloody hurt.

Ibuprofen helped with the swelling, but it was obviously infected and needed antibiotics.

I went to the chemist to stock up on more Ibuprofen and whilst there, I asked for some advice from the pharmacist.

She looked at my finger and said “Well, Ibuprofen will help with the swelling, but it’s obviously infected and will need antibiotics”.


“So, you’re saying I need to go to the doctors’?”

She nodded.

“But it will probably be better by the time I manage to get an appointment. Or my finger will have dropped off.”

She smiled and nodded again. “I know. Sorry.”

And so, figuring that there must be some home remedies that I could use, I turned to the internets for help.

Turns out that natural antibiotics do exist – although there is little scientific evidence to back them up.

By all accounts, a daily dose of garlic can help fight infections. The downside is, you’d then smell like a Frenchman, and I really don’t fancy that at all.

And so, I am trying two others: Echinacea – a natural herbal product that can be bought easily at the local supermarket and Makuna Honey – two teaspoons a day on toast.

Both have differing antibiotic properties, so I reckon that between them, they should be able to sort my finger out.

I’ll keep you posted.

BTW. that’s not my finger in the above picture – I never thought to take a photo of it when it was at it’s most swollen, so that is also off the internets. Sorry.

© 2019

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑