I may have mentioned in the past that Herself is an invalid.
Please note I said an invalid. She is still reasonably valid.
A nasty combination of arthritis and a degenerative spine thingy has left her in a ton of pain and almost totally immobilised. As a result, I have a lot of work to do such as running up and down the stairs [around 20 times a day?] if she wants to move around in the bed or if nature calls. That’s apart from all the other chores around the gaff.
As you may remember, Daughter is also an invalid having smashed her leg good and proper by falling off a push bike. Not you’ll notice, a decent scrambler or even an ordinary motorbike. No, she has to do the spectacular on a fucking ordinary push bike with a fucking basket up front! Where did I go so wrong?
My time therefore is somewhat preoccupied with running up and down stairs with cups of tea or to fix the television that Herself has mucked up yet again or doing emergency runs to various schools to collect Grandkids.
In other words I really need to be in peak fitness or we are all fucked.
Now all was fine and dandy [apart from being fucking knackered all the time] until the lawn needed mowing. As I mentioned, the first attempt at that job ended in disaster when the main drive belt broke. I had a spare belt which was grand and yesterday I decided to fit it. I know I should probably have left it for a few days, but I just had to know if I could do the job and even if the new belt was the right size. That’s just the kind of bloke I am – I have to complete a challenge or else I get edgy.
This morning I had to set the alarm as I had to bring Daughter into Skobieville. As we were driving along I noticed the creeping pain in my back. It was/is a familiar friend as I have had problems with my back for many years. Fuck! I can only presume that lifting a heavy tractor to fit a belt was not the best of ideas after all.
I’m sitting here now trying to take things easy. I’m not going to mention my predicament to Herself or else she’ll start nagging about how I should have left the mower until another day. That’s all very well but the deed is done now and nagging won’t have any effect.
I now have to think up an excuse as to why she should not attempt one of her fortnightly forays to the downstairs.
There is no fucking way I could get her back up again.