Sunday, 8 July 2012

Britain Expects

Well yesterday turned into a marathon tele session if ever there was one.

I was under orders to record the Grand Prix qualifying so set Tivo for the required time then got on with making my lunch. Then sat down to check that the recording was going OK before flicking through the channels to find something else to watch while waiting for the tennis to get going.

Setting up my ironing board I flicked on to BBC 2 to check progress to find that qualifying has been red flagged because of the rain. So I extended the recording by half an hour and switched to BBC 1 for the tennis. Between sets I checked again and still no action and viewers were being told it could be another forty five minutes before racing started so I extended the recording again, this time for an hour. Another break in the tennis, another check on the racing and another extension. This time I thought 'sod it' and added the maximum of three hours.

So Serena won, as predictable as Sliverstone having a wet race and ever so slightly boring. There will be no boredom today though. The decision has been made to record the Grand Prix, with a big over run, and watch the tennis. After all the British Grand Prix happens every year, a British man in the Wimbledon final might be a once in a lifetime event. I've got Peter on tea and snack duty, I will do the same for him when we watch the race later in the day.

It was almost ten before we woke up this morning, neither of us can work out what happened but we've both had the best night's sleep for ages. The cats, who are normally demanding breakfast if we sleep in past seven were also asleep on the end of the bed. So a very late start in the Roberts household and one not help by me screaming the place down when getting dressed. In my bra was an extremely large spider. I screamed and screamed and the cat, still asleep on the bed, suddenly doubled in size and shot under the rocking chair. Peter came rushing in thinking the worst to find me in the corner pointing at the offending piece of clothing and it's passenger, which were now both on the floor. Once the intruder had been removed I finished dressing, with a clean bra, and set about trying to calm Tarmac down. All I got for my troubles was a scratch. I think it might be a while before I'm forgiven for that one.

I am seriously thinking of canceling my appointment at the breast clinic tomorrow. The lump has completely gone, everything is back to normal and I honestly don't think there is anything left for them to see. The other problem I have is that due to the short notice Peter has been unable to get time off to accompany me, which means I'm going to have to park outside the clinic or I just won't be able to get there. Parking outside the hospital is always a nightmare but the main site does have a disabled car park within easy reach of the warfarin clinic. The breast clinic is not on site but on the other side of the road and quite a distance further down the road. Peter says I ought to go just to be sure, he's right of course but if I can't physically get there what can I do? I will give it a go, maybe they have a couple of disabled bays on site. If mnot I will have to ring and rebook at a time when Peter can drive me there.

Well I'm off to cook lunch, and then settle down for a very interesting afternoon.

Next blog in three days.