……Last night my husband came to join me and we decided to make the next day a perfectly relaxing one in the warm July sunshine. It started wonderfully with a cup of tea in bed and a cuddle as we read the Sunday papers.
The next treat was to be pot of coffee and croissants on the terrace. I was just drying my hair when, above the noise of the hair dryer I heard a ferocious yell. Rushing downstairs, I caught sight of myself in the hall mirror with one side of my hair still wet and one side perfectly styled.
“Whatever it is, I cannot go anywhere looking like this”, I thought rather ungallantly.
Grant was stood on the terrace, by the fish pond, holding on to the garden table grimacing as though he had been shot.
“Whatever is the matter, darling?” I offered solicitously looking nervously around at the woodland garden
“Look, look, look, he stammered. “ My toe, my poor toe.” With that he flung his leg in the air and on to the table so that I could have a proper look.
It seemed that whilst carrying the delicious breakfast outside on a tray he had walked into the garden table leg. His foot had definitely come off worst.
There followed twenty minutes of examination and sympathy from me and much hopping about and moaning from him. Eventually we decided that a hospital visit was unnecessary, as even if his toe was broken, they would not do anything about it.
I discovered a pair of extra-large trainers belonging to my son-in-law in the hall cupboard and after I wrapped the toe carefully he put the trainers on his feet. As he walked back out to the garden I thought he looked a little like Max Wall.
Bea and Bella followed him out into the garden and sat at his feet.
“Ah” I thought “how cute they look.”
About ten minutes later he came hobbling through the kitchen and peered through into the dining room.
“Where are the dogs?” he asked smiling through his pain.
“I have no idea, I will help you look, they must be in the garden” I said in one breathe…………..