Ouchies

Well that's this week's portrait scuppered. I've put my back out. So it's horse tranquiliser time! Yay! Well...Cocodamol anyway. It's always a gamble with these things. I have trouble swallowing them sometimes, and then I get rewarded with the lingering taste of disintegrating paracetamol. Bleurgh.

This post is sponsored by the school rugby scrum who decided to fall on my 13 year old frame, all of 30 years ago. Leaving me out of action for a month, with a shoulder blade that will twang at the slightest provocation; a me-shaped hole in the mud (seriously); and a dislike of rugby, up until recently, when my uncle started dragging me along to international games at Murrayfield.

Stupid rugby.