BACK TO THE STICK

If you saw a drunk old woman crawling around on the pavement in Argyle Street this afternoon, that was me.  Only I wasn't drunk;  I just fell over and tore or re-tore the ligaments that I tore in October.  I guess there is still a weakness there.  

I was picked up, dusted down and helped along by some lovely people whose names I do not know and who I will probably never meet again.   This is what nurtures me - in spite of all the evil in the world, the cruelty and the terror -  there is the random kindness of strangers.