Catching up (in a catch-up style)

Philippa turned her ankle again. She went back to work at the end of last week and slipped as she walked out of the office. It proves again my old saying “ALL work is bad for you”
She had it checked by medics and she has something called a ‘high ankle sprain.’ She has to wear a very unattractive strapping on it, which she’s not bothered by, and she has to take a month off sport, which she really IS bothered by. She’s been snappier than a dry twig in Summer. It could be a long month.

TheLoveMachine had a good servicing and is now sounding less likely to explode. The VW specialist I took her to says ‘she’s a beautiful machine, man. Look after her and she’ll keep on going for years.” I hope so. If I have to pay two hundred quid for a service every year I’d better get some decent use out of her.

In two days time I’ll be 28.
Philippa is still keeping schtum about my birthday treat. I was hoping the anti-inflammatory drugs she’s on might loosen her tongue, but no joy. Any time I mention it she just says “If it wasn’t kept secret, it wouldn’t be special”
As poetry is the way I deal with most situations I present some BIRTHDAY BUILD-UP HAIKU:

Nearly twenty eight.
I guess I have to accept
I’m getting older

When I was fourteen
Puberty was my whole life
Now it’s just a word

Birthdays come and go
Your ‘number’ will change each year
But you’re still just you

Girlfriend with sore foot
Promises great memories
As she limps through life

‘Secret and special’
On Friday I discover
What my treat will be..

RC 18-1-12