Well obviously it isn’t Boxing Day, but IT just is three months today until Christmas. No need to thank me for the reminder.
Last weekend, even in the midst of deepest chemo-gloom, I wearily managed to do some on-line shopping (for me). It really is remarkable how nobly I soldier on. Today Cyril and I leapt with joy; me at the delivery of my new stompy winter boots and Cyril at the box the boots arrived in.
I also ventured out today for the first time since Thursday (when I went to see Ross Noble, v funny, big tick). Today I provided the laughs myself by going to the hairdresser and asking for a trim. I think the hairdresser thought I was a bit loopy seeing as my hair is still incredibly short, but nevertheless he trimmed away at the wispy bits round my ears and the bits that make me look like I’ve got a hairy neck (probably because I have got a hairy neck) and so I’m freshly shorn and ready to go out and about, as long as I remember to scrub my neck and ears first, I’m so high maintenance these days.
Not much else to report apart from being rained on relentlessly like the rest of Britain. A month’s worth of rain in a day. And, Australian and American chums, that’s a month’s worth of British rain. As my mate T said, that’s a lot of big dollops.