Sling It

I am learning to be sinister and a southpaw. I have to become corrie-fisted and cack -handed until my right arm mends.
With my left hand I can now cut with scissors, use a spoon to eat soup and cereal, spread with a knife, wash my hair, and use the keyboard, but find it difficult to pull on socks and pants. As for tethering my bosom, I have to rely on my resident carer and at this stage in life it is not an act in the least seductive, more's the pity.

Obviously I find it impossible to use the vacuum cleaner. So with the advent of a friend this afternoon, I enquired gently of the said carer if he could possible vacuum the carpet for me. His reply was that the friend wouldn't notice if it wasn't cleaned, but when I said that I would notice, he reluctantly said he would do it as he didn't want a b****y martyr as well as an invalid. I must see if social services can provide me with a new man, younger and more willing.

His Lordship has his 6 monthly dental check up this morning with our dentist's very thorough locum. He was asked if he smoked to which he replied truthfully that he didn't and if he drank, to which he replied he didn't drink.
This is a man who has quietly marinated in grape juice over the festive period both with visitors and me, and who is known to shop for good wine at every available opportunity.

When, as he recounted this dialogue, he saw my jaw dropping at his inexactitude, he tried to qualify his reply by saying, well he hadn't had any wine for ages. There was little point in my reminding him that we were out for dinner only last Thursday and I didn't see him refusing any wine then.
This just illustrates how pointless it is to ask questions to people creative with the truth.

Lest you think I'm too hard on his Lordship, let me tell you that today he bought me a beautiful brooch in anticipation of St Valentine's Day. I am a little worried that he thinks I won't make it until February 14th, one way or another!