Less than 100%.

No post for the last two days, I have been laid up with a bad chest infection and not had the energy to do anything. Couple of other things have gone dickey this week to and just after a check up that gave me the all clear. One of the down sides to being ill (apart from fighting for breath in between throwing up and getting hardly any sleep when you need it most) is that you are not allowed to enjoy your misery. Some kind friend who on hearing of your malaise invariably visits you and proceeds to give you a run down on whets wrong with them. They will ask you how you feel but before you get very far into your tail of whoe will stop you saying “You think that’s bad, I was in agony last week with, blah, blah, blah,

You get a blow by blow account of how they suffered for days, even weeks sometimes, after which they give you their recipe for a cure that cant fail, usually handed down to them by their Grandmother who lived till the ripe old age of thirty six. They nearly always involve the use of Olive oil and some old biddies pop sock wrapped round your neck whilst you sit feet immersed in a bowl of Kangaroo shit mixed with armadillo ear wax. What escaped me is if these remedies are so good, why did they suffer for so long.
I’m just getting older and more susceptible. I think I might be entering my falling apart period, I’ll keep you posted on what goes missing and what falls off.