Leg-bound

After a splendid lunch thanks to the culinary wizard AKHF and some
preliminary negotiations, Mrs Pepperpot, Agu and I set off for Formby. Mrs P's foot is the size of a football and multi-coloured.

Agu had 'phoned to say my appointment to see the traumatologist was on Thursday, about the time when my flight was due to leave Liverpool, and I would have to come back a day early. We couldn't see another way around the problem, as if I miss this appointment, I might not get another for weeks.

I began the task of looking at the house in a different way. I have had a foot in plaster several times, but when I was in my 20's. Being leg-bound is a different matter when you are a sprightly 81. She has been given crutches to use, but the world is a different place, more particularly the top of the stairs is another planet, when you're juggling with arms, legs, sticks and a painful foot.

Aunty Mariane called in. Unusually, Russian Orthodox Easter coincided with ours. They had returned from church in Manchester and the all night service earlier today. She brought us some eggs to cheer us up, and tomorrow's blip. Kristos vaskrese! (Christ is risen!)