Knees Up

I went to see my devilishly attractive doctor today, almost a year since my last visit. (I hope he noted this latter point: I don't want him thinking I'm one of those tiresome people with hypochondriacal tendencies). He was unchanged from last April, the same fabulous lovat check three-piece suit, the same check shirt, bright gold tie, shiny brown Chelsea boots, jazzy Happysocks. His teeth gleam, his eyes are bright and twinkling, his skin is peachy with health. He's truly a glorious specimen of country manhood, and he's nice to boot. But I don't like him anymore. He has diagnosed arthritis of my right knee, and pointed to the bony outcrops not present in the left one. However, we agreed that my regime of walking, cycling, swimming and yoga plus occasional visits to my sports physio and anciliary work-outs at home including a rubber band, balance mat, fitness hoop and various floor exercises, would slow the inevitable tide though not stop it, and help to support the dicky knee with strong leg muscles. I have even joined the gym at Framlingham College, and had my induction minutes before seeing him. I forget that I am 67 - qui, moi? - and get a shock when I'm reminded. Gardening is a buggerance witrh arthritic knees of course, but since I'd die without that it's not up for discussion. I met Mike my neighbour in Waitrose and he suggested we went cycling together. Ur, no I don't think so Mike. Your wife would almost certainly not like it.

Yesterday I arrived at Helen's prior to bridge with the lunch we were supposed to be having at my house, when she revealed to me she can't eat ham, the basic ingredient of the delicious pizza I had brought. She hid her disappointment while I devoured the huge thing single-handedly, forcing a glass of wine on me which I reluctantly drank. That would explain why we did spectacularly badly at bridge. I know I can't mix the two things, but when she gives me a full, extra large glass (just a drop Denise, won't do you any harm) I find myself sipping it to the end. I will learn, I will. After bridge I hurtled off to Snape again where I was ushering at the schools concert. For a few seconds the tiny tots of the first group to sing enchanted me, but then I became bored stiff with the endless flat wailing ssmall children do when singing together. A couple of big brassy girls came on eventually and livened the place up with their raunchy singing, and the finale with all the kids working with professional musicians was brilliant. I couldn't wait to get home for a cup of tea, but it was then I remembered that I had run out of teabags. I've been punishing Twinings for changing their packaging and reducing the number of bags from 100 to 80 while keeping the price the same. Iniquitous! So I've been waiting until they reduce the cost which they do periodically, and then buy in a dozen packets. I played dare too long this time and they won. No late night cuppa. Hoist by my own petard.