We woke to the most beautiful blue sky morning. It was if the world was apologising for being so cruel in the last few days. The morning air had that autumn feeling, but any autumn changes are some weeks away.
It was the type of morning that made one want to get up and do something, something energetic. I curtailed the instinct with a cup of tea, and then another cup of tea. Moderation in all things.
Lunch time, I did venture out to pick tomatoes and salad leaves from our vegetable garden. By this time it was 33C outside and very, very muggy. Humid.
I pulled on my rain boots as the going was muddy, but I was rewarded by deep ruby red tomatoes and lush green salad leaves. Back in the house I was struggling to get my boots off, so asked Mr FD to assist.
Mr FD was sitting down so I had to stand beside his chair as he pulled on my boots. My frets were sweaty from the heavy foot ware, which made it a little tough – well, if it was easier I would have accomplished it myself, right?
One tug, two. Mr FD must have been under the impression I was third years younger and as flexible as a practising prima ballerina, because he kept raising my leg higher and higher. When it was level with my hip, I yelled “enough”. Oddly, the boot came away then.
Repeat on the second boot.
Afterwards, Mr FD commented, “Oh, I hope you can walk tomorrow, and not dislocated a hip or anything.”
Mr FD’s powers of hindsight are unparalleled.