Bad weather and small accidents

I wake and switch the bedside lamp on around seven, to find Norman's bed is empty, so wander to the bathroom and discover the reason. I have just walked through a pile of pooh, Norman has taken refuge with Dolly and Teddy in the lounge and looks really guilty. The next half hour is spent cleaning and shampooing the carpet, before shooing the three dogs into the garden for belated morning ablutions. It is breaking dawn on a cold wintry day, with dark clouds boding snow or sleet later. Somehow my appetite can't handle a fry up, so I make tea and boiled eggs with rye toast soldiers. The sound of rain and sleet driving against the windows greets me as I take my tea into the Garden Room, the local weather forecast says it might lift by mid morning, so after showering and dressing I prepare a chicken casserole for the slow cooker, using up the last of my fresh vegetables and adding some frozen peas for good measure. Around half past eleven the skies brighten and the sleet stops, so I load the dogs in the car and drive to the Westwood, parking in the usual place. The weather is quite bright and the sun has come out, but the bitter Northeasterly wind persists, my arthritis really hates this weather and my left hip and knee are sore. At Black Mill, I decide to push on a little further and walk as far as a bench that overlooks the 14th tee of the golf course, it is right up against a hedge and faces South into the sun. We sit enjoying the sunshine for about ten minutes and then I notice ominous dark clouds rolling in from the North, so we hurriedly make our way back to the car, passing Newbald Pits wood and following the path that runs parallel to the road. About two hundred metres from the safety of the car, I loose my footing on a patch of wet, muddy grass and fall flat on my back. Fortunately only my pride is dented, but the back of my jacket and the seat of my corduroy pants are wet with mud, some kitchen roll, that I use to pick up dog pooh, is retrieved from my pocket and temporary cleaning effected. Whilst I am doing this, a hailstorm whips into us, mixed with rain and sleet and driven by the freezing wind, it really is very unpleasant. In these conditions two hundred metres is a long way and we are all pretty cold and wet when we eventually take refuge in the Chrysler. On my way home, I call at the pharmacist and collect a prescription of diclofenac, as ibruprofen isn't touching the inflamation in my joints, eventually the four of us arrive back in Tickton for one o'clock. I towel the dogs dry and then change into dry clothes, before making a simple lunch of rye bread cheese and a glass of red wine. The dogs have Bakers dry dog food. The wintry showers continue throughout the afternoon, so the dogs and I curl up on the sofa with a book and are glad to be indoors. At four the phone rings, it is the receptionist from the surgery, who informs me that Doctor Martin agrees with my letter and has authorised a further PSA test to be taken before my appointment with Mr. Cooksey, the consultant urologist. The receptionist confirms that a letter referring me to the specialist went on the 28th of January, hopefully my appointment will come through soon. The weather eases up again around seven, so the dogs and I take a walk round the village, it seems slightly less cold, the sky is clearing and the stars are out, Venus is directly overhead. When we return indoors, I check my casserole, but it isn't quite ready and I don't feel particularly hungry, so I make some more bread and cheese and eat it with another glass of wine. Clement phones around half past eight and we have a nice chat for half an hour, he is swotting hard for exams next week and has also met a girl, a history student from a Greek Cypriot background, I remind him that his great uncle was the French Ambassador to Cyprus, about forty years ago. He also tells me that he has to pick a project to work on next year and is considering some that involves Graphene and diamond, one in particular is in the area of super capacitors, which has the potential to be the power source of the future. He says he will email the details to me. Later, while I am reading some short stories by Ian Rankin, Alice texts to ask if I will take her for an orthodontal appointment at 9:15 tomorrow. I text back to say I will collect her at five past nine, then set my alarm for six thirty on my phone. Before bed I take another diclofenac tablet, as the first seems to be easing the inflamation in my hip. To bed for ten thirty.