Karma

I think the universe is telling me that I am a bad BAD housekeeper (I really am!) and that I need to clear out all of the stuff in our tiny flat that we really don’t need any more. Such as the cot last used to sleep my five year old son, which has been dismantled but is still leaning against the wall in the lounge (I think it’s been there for about a year now).

And why do I think this?

Because yesterday, in a childish game of ‘annoy the husband by hiding his post from him’, I whacked my three smaller toes on my left foot on that self same cot as I was running into the lounge at a reasonable speed. Ouch.

Somehow, my littlest-but-one toe was grazed on the side, and has swelled up significantly. The bones running further up my foot from these three toes are aching today, and I can’t see me briskly walking or jogging anywhere for a while. I am self treating by sitting in bed (you need to keep the foot elevated, you know!) and hoping that, if I try not to think about it, it will all get better.

Hands up anyone who thinks that this sort of denial is the way to go. Anyone?!

Allotments

As some of you might remember, last year I put my name down for an allotment near my home. Reading everyone’s accounts of how they are growing lovely veggies in their gardens made me turn more than a little green with envy, and so I decided to chase up my application. Hmm. It turns out that I am fourteenth on the list for the nearby allotments. Not good! I can’t imagine that I’ll get anywhere near the top of the list for the next couple of years or more, by which time I may well have moved to somewhere with a little garden of my own, and no longer be in such great need of an allotment. From what I’ve heard, once in an allotment, people don’t often leave.

Oh well, back to the tomatoes on the windowsill it is then. And occasional helping out Jo and her garden. Sad face!