Breakfast in bed

Last night I dreamt that Donald Trump had won, but realised I'd put the radio on about 6am, then dozed to the news. We live in interesting times...

Breakfast cheered me up - avocado on toast - none for Archie. Then I had to get showered and dressed to go to the surgery. What a faff that was. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long - last time I was there, it was painful to sit, and I was squirming about, letting out little involuntary gasps and sighs, until a kind man asked if he could help, so I made an effort to keep quiet.

I'd been dreading the taking out of the clips - it was quite nippy last time, but I had a different nurse who took her time and I only squawked a few times as she went over the knee bend. What a woos! Another step on the road to recovery.

I then retired to the sofa for the afternoon and slept, while Archie and JR had a lunch date with Rufus and his mum. They brought me back a pastry. Which did not quite make up for the bag of Licorice Allsorts that I knew were in the house. I searched high and low, even texted JR to find out where she'd hidden them, but she never hears/ sees/ receives/ responds to important texts.

They were in full view on the kitchen bench all the time.

Christine was excited about her holiday plans for next year, having just booked. We'd love to book a holiday (we have a few preferences lined up) and I know my knees will be fine by then, but I'm just a bit wary of booking anything at the moment.

Thank you once again for all the kind words of encouragement. I'm sorry that I keep going on about my knees, but it's all I've got at the moment. I want to look back in a year and remember how tough it was. But please feel free to ignore my whingeings.