Just phoned dad. Mum is being kept in hospital overnight. And so now I'm in a state. He has to back to the hospital later today with some of her things, God I wish I was there.
I'll go tomorrow morning.

I had a feeling this would happen.
Wish Mr H. was here but he won't be back till tomorrow afternoon then he's out again. Bugger.

Popped out this morning.
Bought curtains and a cockerel.

Helps take my mind off of mum and her feet. She's at the hospital today, appointment was at 10, haven't heard anything yet.
So as I wait to hear what's happened I'll put up the 'new' kitchen curtains.

Sorry about this post but I have to air it and I haven't had a sandwich yet. and I've been in for an hour:(

"Let yourself in" they said "Because we will be at the doc's".
Mum's feet have gone elephantine.

Two hours later I was sticking my key in the lock. No movement. Fiddled and wiggled with it, nope.
So waited for an hour on the rain smacked ice balcony for an hour.

They looked pale on arrival.
They'd forgotten to tell me they'd had the locks changed.
No problem I said and I meant it.

The doc was kind and prescribed penicillin for the infected foot...
The skin on her left foot has split and turned nasty. He would phone the diabetes clinic and make an appointment for her.

She was livid which was amazing on account of her being so weak. And there we all sat, her not eating and dad fussing around like an old woman.

I talked too much because I felt fearful. Then the phone went, it was the doc saying he'd like to give her another prescription and would she go back........Expletives flew through the tears.
"I'll go and get it" I said as cheerily as I could.
Dad of course wouldn't allow it he thought it'd be best if I sat with mum for a girl to girl natter.

We went out instead. And gassed. Mostly about boys.

But mum could barely walk so on entering our fav charity shop she sat down on the big chair by the door. This worried me. I waltzed around like an idiot picking up stuff to show her and then after gazing at idiotically priced handbags, found her a purse of questionable taste. She loved it.

As she got up she waddled so I allowed her to hang on to my arm and off we went to the next shop. She wasn't herself though, not in any way shape or form and I raged inside, well I would wouldn't I? Here was my heroine ashen faced, lumpy legged and quiet. No sir didin't like this one jot.
But I got the seal of approval on a preposterous red hat.
Then we headed home stopping in the showers every few yards so she could stand on one leg. Fuck this.

Home to dad grappling with the hoover and another phone call. This time from the hospital. My God I thought, her GP has acted quickly. Bless him. A kind gentle man with a name sounding like a medicine. Fluxman.

Anyway dad was continually asking the caller to 'repeat that please' so I offered to talk.
It was Sean from the Podiatry clinic and would your mum please come tomorrow to see Julie and Dr Valahajahaj or something.
"Yes of course" I said writing all this down.
Mum went ballistic.
"Why don't they leave me alone" she screamed.

Not much you can say to that.

The afternoon went painfully by with mum's dreadfully swollen legs resting on a pouffe. Dad's losing his hair and patience. And I was force fed Eccles cakes. "What about the cake I brought up ?" I said like a little brat.

Am I over reacting or am I normal? I admit to panicking any time the old dears fail their MOT....I rage because there's nothing I can do except talk.

Now I have a cracker, can't be arsed with sandwiches. And if I get away now I can watch 'In the Line of Fire' with the very gorgeous boy, Clinty Eastwood.

Crouchy 1 France 2

Stair rods of rain, new kids 'playing' for England and a capped Capello!
What's happening?

France out classed Fabio's boys, no doubt about it, but it wasn't all gloom, there was a strong warm light coming in the shape of Andy Carroll. Powerful, tall and a sweet crosser of the ball. Didn't get a goal but I'll forgive him.
It was as usual down to Crouchy to save the day, the essential beanpole came on after Gerard got whacked. And a good job too, otherwise we'd have been very slaughtered by the French instead of being only slaughtered.

I'm gutted John.

'Invented' a cake.

Ok...baked a regular 8 inch fatless chocolate sponge.
Split it.
Bottom spread with naughty Nutella.
Nutella topped with whipped double death cream.
Cream scattered with grated dark fair trade chocolate.
Top put on.
Carefully.
Top dusted from a great height with icing sugar.
Icing sugar kissed with cocoa.
Cocoa embellished with dots of Hartley's apricot jam.
Apricot jam nutted with toasted flaked almonds:)

Sat satisfied.
Then baked a dozen old fashioned Rock Cakes.
Just for the pleasure.

Now I must fly back into the kitchen where an egg awaits the frying technique.

Then bed with the England boys.


:)

Woooooo! Me excited!

.............Just burnt my tongue on steaming spring rolls...........................Got mega amount of baking to do so.........Have footie flick 'The Damned United' on standby...........Gas man just read meter........................noted the numbers then shoved him out........grrrrrrr.................Must fly............Not yet............Am spiffing excited about England v. France tonight........Will be.........Alone but juicing up at the thought of a Nutella and Capello............Paid 16p for a loose Turnip........

Now I Fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Should This Fierce Magpie Be Allowed To Let Rip?

Yes.
England will need villainous birds like Newcastle's Andy Carroll if they are to duff up France tomorrow night at Wembley.

Fabio Capello has already named him as part of the team but whether or not he actually plays is something else.

The bad boy who has, as part of his bail conditions, been living with another more stable player, could bring the necessary height and vigour England currently lack. At 6ft 3in Carroll could head without mercy.

I say bring him on, never mind what he gets up to when out with the boys, it's what he can do to salvage the reputation of the England squad that matters.
Never has England needed a demolition man more than she does now.

On a more feminine note.
Last night I fell asleep a little later than usual on account of watching half of Black Hawk Down on C5. What I watched I liked. But being of a delicate nature my old eyes just couldn't stay open till the end.
I do look bright today though, so happy days!

No cooking today, not unless you call pouring some gravy over a few left over meatballs, cooking.
As Mr H. is doing the spooky shift I'll manage on very little;)

Now I must fly......................!