Wednesday, July 2, 2008
I had a lovely friend Peter, Peter Doyle, I think (though I could be wrong), from Kilcoole, tell him to get in touch if you know him, who told me his first words, having come home from a walk to the chemist with his mum, were 'Fell Down'. Sad and sweet.
I fell down twice yesterday! Twice! First the baby gate came off the bottom of the stairs, and I fell down the last two stairs, over on top of it, hurting my hand. Then later on that afternoon I was putting recycling out the front to try and clear some space in out tip of a house. For some reason the designers of the house favoured dangerously slippy tiles on the porch and in the kitchen, so finally, it's taken six years but slip, whoosh, there I was on the ground, feet twisted out from under me. I hurt the other side of the sore hand, and the other hand, bruised my knee and gave myself door mat burn.
I was rushing around tidying because my MIL was coming over to book her golf on the computer - her club seems to be trying to force out the oldies by going techno. It's good in the end though, as the husband actually tidied up our computer/music/toy/crap room, in about half an hour, and rather than being the energy sucking pit of doom it was, it looks quite nice again. Whee!
Sadly the baby woke up wet last night, then got a burst of energy that lasted two ours, so I suspect I'm going to be wrecked and not coping again today :(