And we’re off ………….

Renewed and invigorated, spurred on by significant dates, driven to use today as a watershed. Resolved. Hungover.

Last year saw just 19 new posts – that’s not really trying, is it ?! Yet, approximately 15,000 hits. We just like the old stuff, huh ?

So, new year, new resolutions, trusty hangover cure.

Last year’s earnings target was surpassed by a variety of means, all legal but not all from my efforts in 2013. (Ah, the good ‘ol tax break. ) So, earnings target for 2014 is just £6k – $10,000 –  to pay for this year’s planned (almost) big trip. More news on that later.

More creativity, more writing, more playing of music – just MORE .

I would like to thank my trusty regular readers without whom I’d feel pretty lonely and all those who left a comment. Thank you. I would like to apologise to all those accidental readers who Googled something inane and ended up here by mistake. Be specific next time.

And so, since it is the season of TV repeats, and because it is 2 years since this post first launched me into WordPress stardom, let’s hear it for my Greatest Hit (thunderous applause, whistles, underwear thrown on stage)……. Let’s sit back and enjoy, one more time ……….

Another sandwich related injury..

01 Tuesday Feb 2011

Now, I’ll admit that I’m quite smug about the fact that I’m reasonably fit and, as I approach my late fifties, I’m no couch potato. My resting heart rate is practically reptilian. I run at least twice a week and cycle when not running. But I can’t fathom those strange injuries that come from nowhere. How does that happen? I don’t mean the knicks and scratches we all get from time to time from failing to acknowledge an advancing blade but those “I can’t believe I did that” moments.

A few years ago I snapped the tendons in my middle finger of my right hand. I heard a distinct snap and as my finger waved around in the breeze, as it were, all I could think about as how am I going to play my guitar now. Years of fingerstyle practice down the drain. Maybe I’ll have to learn the harmonica. With a certain amount of shock and worry I cradled my finger down to A&E.

The triage nurse gave me a quizzical look. “How did you do it, sir?”

“I was changing a sheet on the bed, “ I whispered.

“Huh?”

“Changing the bed,” I said a little louder. She typed something into her terminal trying not to smirk. I could see it. Then, with a dramatic hand clap, she shouted her colleagues.

“Okay, ladies, let’s go. Go. We’ve got to get this guy patched up pretty quick. He does housework !”

Sheepishly I picked my way through the crutches, plaster casts and wheel chairs to the front of the queue.

For the next 3 months I was strapped to a lollipop stick which slammed into the dashboard every time I drove the car or nearly took my eye out washing and shaving. I listened to Sonny Boy Williamson records constantly.

Image from sonnyboy.com

But the lovely nurses did their job perfectly and I was back doing housework in no time.

Which brings me to yesterday. I was tucking into my lunchtime sandwich.

Image. Ham and Cheese Sandwich

Not a huge sandwich – I didn’t need lifting gear or anything. It was a 2-hander though to keep the filling in – ham and cheese – jamon y queso (I’ve been learning Spanish) – and just as I was raising my lunch to contact point………..I cricked my shoulder. Damn, ouch, how did that happen? I couldn’t move it for a while. I massaged and wriggled. I had visions (“Just exactly how did you dislocate your shoulder, sir ?” “Okay, let’s get this guy patched up – he’s hungry !” ) ……..

Damn, my shoulder hurts this morning. I massaged and wriggled and took a coupla’ pills till the pain went down. But, hey, how on earth do these things happen ? It’s my sanding arm, too.

I guess I’ll treat it gently and get some deep heat spray on it. All I can say is, take care out there, folks, life’s a minefield.

Image from HappyWomenLoveMen………(no comment)