walk the line

A hundred years ago it would seem I had what you could call a bit of an accident. On 16th March (not that the date is indelibly marked in my brain) whilst doing nothing more strenuous than walking up the garden, I fractured the 2nd metatarsal in my right foot. 12 weeks on I am sat in Hamburg, strapped back tight into my lovely Beckham boot as I completely misjudged my recovery. For the last 2 weeks I have been happily wombling about the house in Birkenstocks (SEXY!!) feeling little to no pain. So, I thought a trip to Hamburg would be a breeze. Lovely hubbie insisted I pack “the boot” as I was all gung ho about being fixed but he was less convinced. And thank the lord I did. Cab arrived at 6am Tuesday & I staggered out thinking ooh, ouch must be ‘cos so early. Got to Heathrow and after I had loaded myself up like a pack horse with heavy PC bag, handbag & large suitcase, I suddenly realised I had increased my weight significantly. And each step was bone stretching agony…to cut to the chase by the time I got to my meeting here I was a pain wrecked gibbering heap. I had a flight to Manila booked on Monday & my client took one look at me & said NO – cancel you’re not going anywhere in that state! So all I have to do now is negotiate my way home. Slowly, carefully and with good old Beckham boot firmly on. Which will be a hoot going through security!

Back to the 80's

Oh my. What an evening. Poor stressed hubby was ensconced in late night talks in that City place he spends most of his life (long chats now as parliament decision will directly affect his job) so the cat & I decided to hunker down to 1½ hours of 1980’s TOTP performances. Well cat stayed with me till Wham! appeared & I started singing at the top of my (bad) voice! What joy the charts were then! Songs with the most nonsensical stupid lyrics with a great beat you could belt out whilst dancing ‘round the sofa (and trust me if foot better I would’ve been go-go-ing with George). Frankie relaxed, Peter Burns when he was normal was spinning, Bronski were beating, and don’t get me started on Ah Ha! The delicious Morten Harket .... never mind the sun on his TV ... Needing to share my joy I texted lovely ex who was in music biz in the 80’s and the past became present (‘Remember the Bronski beat girl who owed our landlady rent!’ ‘Drinking champagne in Japan with Roland from Tears for Fears’ (ex not me!) ‘How did I miss that George was gay?!’). Sadly it all got a bit dull and formulaic as the decade progressed – despite the last song being Lisa Stansfield’s ‘Been around the world’ which is a corker, and I started to feel v sorry for my step kids. We actually left the house wearing customised curtains, black lipstick, frilly shirts & huge bows in our backcombed hair & our grannies shoes with lurex ankle socks. We wanted to look like Adam Ant for god’s sake, a man who would’ve been quite at home in any Pirates of the Caribbean film! George Michael took to the stage in neon fingerless gloves & lycra shorts & Duran Duran went to the beach wearing Antony Price shiny suits. Boy George wore panstick & crimson lipstick & lampshades as hats and I think perming lotion actually ran out in 1986. And who have today’s teenagers got? Personality bypass stick insect Cheryl talentless Cole the check out girl. The 80’s may have been about money & excess but at least we had a sense of humour back then.