SCRAMBLED

B fancied scrambled egg on toast for lunch, and apparently I scramble a mean egg* although I don't enjoy it myself... something about the texture. I'm one of those strange people who has to have my eggs cooked until they're rock solid and really doesn't like egg custard, rice pudding, crème caramel etc. However, because I'm not at all consistent, I like omelettes and of course raw cake mixture!

Today and the last few days, though, I've had no appetite at all. It's not a symptom because my senses of smell and taste are absolutely fine. Just worry I think. After yesterday's anxiety, the splendid Ryan phoned me at 9am today before I could get back to TalkTalk to ask for an earlier appointment, to tell me he was already outside Mum's house working on the problem. When he called at 10.30 to say it was fixed I had trouble stopping myself from going all wobbly down the phone. When I eventually got through to Mum's pharmacy about her medication they'd had to tell their driver to stay at home because he wasn't feeling well, so the even more splendid Mel went and queued for an hour and a half to collect it. Hooray. That's a month's worth sorted out now. I can breathe again.

*These lovely golden eggs are from Copper Maran hens, it says on the box.