I have toothache, well, gum ache. I am blessed with four impacted and semi erupted wisdom teeth. Every now and again something goes awry and I get a gum infection. I did se about having them removed some years ago, but the process described by the “maxiofacial surgeon” sounded horrendous and I wimped out. By and large it is all fine, but every now and then, especially if I am run down or particularly tense (in which case I grind my teeth at night like Baba Yaga), they flare up and it is hellish. I am on an impressively disgusting mouthwash, copious painkillers and food that can be posted into a mouth I can’t open too widely (soup, soft rolls and (bonanza!) slim bars of chocolate I have found in the pantry). I think with envy of Zippy from Rainbow and his hinged mouth (Keith also thinks of this but I suspect it is the zip that he finds an attraction). Tonight we are having pub takeaway. I am thinking that scampi and mushy peas might get through the slot….
By way of morning tooth distraction Lyra and I went for a walk around the Hirsel, parking in the woods and taking a looping walk through the woods into the grounds and back again. It was raining when we started, but the sort of soft rain that shows up in puddles but does not trouble a walker in a woolly hat, granny knitted arran and library curtain weskit. I was struck, coming through the woods, by how much colour there was compared with the muddy fields and hedgerows. Young beech saplings had kept their bronze leaves and the ferns were still green and hardly died back at all. Clumps of snowdrops were peeping through the leaf mould and there was, further in, a shiny carpet of glossy ivy and vinca minor on the bank. The mud was also of a rather superior quality – the leaf mould mixed through gave a much airier texture compared with the welly gripping clay along the field margins. The air was filled with the sound of rushing water and the Leet, usually more of a narrow stream than a proper river, had burst its banks and created a turbulent foaming flood plain of builder’s tea. However, the bridge was fine and we crossed over. Next to the house we passed a fine old witch hazel in full flower and a rather lovely white sorbus. Onwards next to visit the highland cows. These were looking distinctly soggy and not in much of a mood to chat but two passing joggers jauntily declared the weather perfect to cool them down. Verily, it takes all sorts. Incongruously, there was a bonfire burning merrily, despite the now rather insistent rain, in a cleared area under the trees next to the walled garden. We came back through the woods and over the other bridge, which by now was a mere 2 inches above the water level, feeling rather intrepid. With the rain now at the penetrating stage I determined that outside was now over for the day.
Yesterday afternoon I medicated with knitting and A Tale of Two Cities. However, Sidney Carton has now been dispatched and my next Audible credit is a day away. (NB on that score I rather feel that Sidney C. was by far a more interesting chap than the mealy mouthed viscompte and Lucie struck me as totally wet. There would be a much better novel in there were Lucie and M. Drippy despatched – a Jean Rhyss Wild Sargasso Sea style treatment is urgently required). I have an unread version of Frankenstein but I am not sure Victorian Gothic is quite what I need with my gums throbbing away. I have perused the bargain basement of the apple store and found that for £1.99 I can have Robert Hardy (who will always be Siegfried Farnon to me) reading Sherlock Holmes. This then, plus the second, very slim, bar of chocolate and two ibuprofen, is the plan for the afternoon. The jumper is a dilemma though. I have twisted two thin yarns together (blue and gold) into a twill. The back is now complete in a basket stitch and looking rather nice. However, for a bit more entertainment, I decided to put a cable or two on the front. Unfortunately, 3 inches in, I am thinking the cable is too fine to show up well with the twill wool and the moss stitch panel just isn’t looking as I intended. Do I rip back and replace with a bigger one or persevere…………..?
Live from Ruthven 