Sunday 11th April 2021

I woke up with pain, and yet my foot was back to its Cinderella-like normality. The swelling had gone down, and my foot was covered in all sorts of wrinkled patterns.

As the day went on, the bridge of my foot began to ache and then hurt.

I thought about it.

Gout would not spread like that.

I said.

It felt more like a tendon problem.

A tender tendon.

I worked out, correctly, that the act of keeping my big toe lifted up so not to touch the floor had strained the tendon and was more painful than the gout.

So, I rubbed gel on the tendon, then forced myself to sit with my foot down and toe on the carpet. It hurt at first, but soon was OK.

And tat was that, but what I can tell you, dear readers, is that on Monday, not having my foot elevated meant that the swelling returned even as the gout continued to fade.

I have no idea.

But for the whole day, I was under orders from Jools to not move, elevate my foot and take things easy. And who am I to argue?

Exactly.

I slept poorly again, so when I drop back off, I slept to nearly half seven, when not only was it light but the sun was up and birds singing and all that. But, with the sun out, though it was cool, how could ones heart not be lifted?

We had crossants with second coffee, then Jools went to work more in the garden, whilst i lazed around and willed my foot to get better.

The morning passed.

Lunch was bangers and mash and beans. And the mash had butter and genuine Canadian salted herbs, which the lable said it should be used on. What are salted herbs? I have no idea, they taste like nothing else really, but act as great seasoning for potatoes.

And there was enough mash left for my lunch on Monday.

Which was nice.

The afternoon was spent watching football. Lots of football. One game merged into another. Burnley v Newcastle was as dreadul as feared, but enlivened by two great gols for the Toon. West Ham beat Leicester and Man Utd beat Spurs.

It was half six, and supper time.

We had cheese and crackers, but with coffee, not wine.

Sigh.

I am not addicted to booze, nor do I crave it, just that I like a glass of red, or a Belgian tripel. Makes me feel like a millionaire.

Which I'm not, clearly.

Evening comes, I do #wildflowerhour though I have little to post, but it is wonderful to see the spring flowers though the pictures of others.