The last two “bored”s are highly unlikely!
Have surrendered to the inevitable and asked that someone ships in my laptop. At least then l can do something useful - and spending days at a time in one place, looking at a screen is pretty much my life anyway…
No. It would be boring.
Bacon butties on the table
Joe’s parcel has some speculaas stuffed with almond paste
Aaagh wrong button pushed
As well as the biscuit type things there are slabs of malted bread (fruit and malt without the fruit ) and cheddar that snarls at you
A few bacon butties and just cos it’s Saturday a lump of Christmas cake that hiccoughs at you from the force fed brandy
…speculaas stuffed with almond paste
A cannula full of gin would be useful…
The sparrer does gin
I just supply it with a drop of whiskey to keep it warm
A 25 year old single malt Bushmills today
Bushmill’s Malt is tempting, too, but the colour might be noticeable…
Well, you’d hope so…
Meanwhile, it looks like I’m in for another round of Hunt The Vein.
The first contestant’s already thrown in her tourniquet, so it’s likely to be another of yesterday’s five players who’ll progress to the next round. This time they’re facing the additional challenge of only having one arm to search.
Runners, riders and (hopefully) a winner will be announced as we get news…
Pore joe. Too desiccated for a Shylock. That hospital needs better-trained vampires, by the sound of it.
I, on the other hand, would make a most convincing Duncan*. Dislodged a tiny scab from a minute puncture on my arm and was weltering in gore up to my oxters in no time.
*indeed, this is obviously why ‘bloody Gus!’ is a frequent cry in certain circles…
Meanwhile I am Declining on me Chaise at a safe distance, I hope
Thumping headache,earache & full blown cold today after ‘going orff’ yesterday
Sigh
Carinthia.xx
Oh, sod that, dere Chatelaine. Have a mulled medicinal, sovran against murrains, and Stoppit At Once.
Gxxx
And a nice soothing listen to The Canterbury Tales will buck you up no end. You may wonder whether that sentence contains a typo: I couldn’t possibly comment.
Most medics are awful at taking blood. I had a knack for it. (The blood whisperer?)
Maybe I ought give it a go, purely in the interests of Science. I’m due another BP test any time now…
Still waiting for the next contender. The trouble is, all those remaining remember yesterday’s fun and games. Those that haven’t buggered off for the weekend, of course.
Wot That Gus sed, wiv Christmas bells on. Special medicinal hamper of stockpiled cheer and good wishes winging its way Carinthiawards.
There may even be a mudlark egg; apparently Bella is back on lay.
My experience is that nurses who get lots of practice are better at drawing blood from me than doctors who get less; best so far are the three nurses at the GP here, who take positive pride in not causing bruises, worst was the doctor when my gall-bladder had packed up who took forever to find a vein and then, poor man, dropped it while he was putting the label onto the tube and managed to get blood all over the floor so that he had to do it again. (That was many years ago, so it was really and truly memorably bad.)
Have all the nurses given up as well, joe?
Second one just has…
A propos nothing in particular
Meanwhile, caught a few minutes of you-know-what. Ignore everything that supposedly connects it to TA - not least the dreadful Bellowhead assault on Barwick Green, which I hoped had been consigned to history along with AmEx - and it’s exactly what you’d expect of a BBC adaptation. No sign of “Rex” for example, but the sort of perfectly good acting job you’d expect from the classically-trained Shakespearean actor son of two of the founders of the Leeds Playhouse.
Why bother with a conceit that probably alienates more of the potential audience than it attracts?
Oh, and the little I’ve heard has not persuaded that La Finch has any greater a range than we have seen in TA.