Me laddie has been put out of action for a few weeks due to breaking his little finger in two places during a rugby training session. He had to have surgery to manipulate it back into place. The orthopaedic registrar informed us that surgery was necessary because the breaks were on growth plates and his finger would not grow properly without the surgery. They even kept him in overnight and I got to sleep on a chair bed right next to him. All very dramatic for the sake of a broken pinky finger but we were looked after very well. Yep, I experienced for myself the greatness of the NHS, but despite the pledges and the ring-fencing, be in little doubt that the cold, hard hands of Cameron and Giddy-boy will soon be felt around the neck of our beloved NHS. It’s already happening folks.
Anyway, me laddie . . . the poor boy is gutted. He can’t play rugby for another four to six weeks and to rub the salt well and truly in, after waiting nervously for weeks for his teacher to make the team announcements, he just got chosen for the the school’s football team and hasn’t been able to play a single game for them yet. He was chosen to play goalkeeper, the position that everyone usually dreads but I think they gave him that position on account of his catching skills. Well, probably more likely because, having played rugby most of his life, he kept trying to catch the ball instead of kick it. He doesn’t mind being goalie though. Loitering idly whilst picking paint off the posts and wondering what’s for tea suits him splendidly.
Anyhoo, well and truly out of action is where we are right now and even cycling is out of bounds so we’ve been going on lots of walks – just so his stamina and fitness levels don’t walk away altogether never to be found again.
Yesterday we went to Bolton Abbey and to my delight, there were lot’s of Halloweeny things going on which included a pumpkin trail. My boy, having turned eleven just last week, was a bit disgusted at such childish nonsense but I have a sneaky feeling that his buddy who came along with us unintentionally induced much of that disgust. So, not one to miss out on anything, I took part myself and just as I thought, it wasn’t long before they were both butting in and shouting out with unreserved excitment whenever they spotted a pumpkin or a witch. Even the hubby was caught up in it all. T’was jolly good Halloween stuff.
I even managed to take some pictures of the beautiful Autumn day so, for your Autumnal pleasure . . .