This weekend was a roller coaster, Saturday was just plain odd, Sunday was a fabulous race followed by meeting my beloved Marc and Keith at The George Hotel. A wonderful afternoon spent sitting outside in the rain drinking gin, discussing the lack of brown coloured roses in the UK market, Christmas trends, and weddings. How I wish we could do this every afternoon.
Sunday then took a nose dive, when the news that Mr Hamilton had been robbed of his victory came through. Then to top it all at 4.30 this morning, I feel down 2 flights of stairs. I now have a bruise the size of a continent on my bottom, I am waiting for my left ankle to turn blue, and a carpet burn on my arm, that merely adds to the one I got on the roasting tin the other day.
I just hope that my ankle isn't as bad as the awful "Shoes of death fall" of 2004. Never one for seeking medical advice, I have applied a neoprene support, and wedged it into knee high leather boots.
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