I am coming to the
definite conclusion that either the God of Feet doesn't like me
travelling, or the God of Travel doesn't like my Feet. Or something.
Last time we flew to
Europe, I came off Juliette's Rip Stick and twisted my foot really
badly a couple of days beforehand, which meant that I was hobbling
around like Long John Silver and had to wear Granny stockings on the
plane to stop it blowing up (my foot, not the plane) – which didn't
particularly work, as my foot was still the size of the Vatican City
by the time we arrived in Madrid.
Then a few days ago, I
woke up with a slight pain in the sole of my foot which has since
developed into a painful swelling so that I can hardly walk. It
wouldn't be so irritating if it wasn't for the fact that there is
SOOOO much to do, SOOOO little time to do it and everything is now
taking SOOOO much longer than it should. And if I can't walk before
we fly, I will be extremely vexed, to say the least.
Friday evening I had my
pupil's concert, so in between teaching Juliette and my Ladies choir
and my pupils and making mince pies, I was hopping around on one
foot, desperately trying to get my house into the sort of state which
I like to pretend is the norm. I knew that within five minutes of the
kids arriving, the house would be in a state of chaos, but I still
put myself through the whole thing. Why? Am I really convincing
anyone that I'm not a slob? I doubt it. At least the concert was
lovely. Usually, putting on a concert guarantees a last minute
frantic whirl of practise, but a lot of the kids are just too tired
at the moment with the heat wave we've been having and all the usual
end of term stuff, so there wasn't as much pre concert practise as I
would have liked. Still, it was still delightful seeing them all get
up and perform solo, introducing their pieces and giving a beautiful
bow before and afterwards. They all displayed much more confidence
and better performing skills than me, so I am pretty proud of them.
Today, dosed up with
antibiotics as I am, I have my Ladies Choir carol singing party, for
which I may be doing a puppet show. Every year I have a Christmas
party and do a puppet show, but thought I'd forgo the latter this
year, partly because I am too tired to get my act together and partly
because I thought all the children were getting too old. However,
there was a huge outcry, so somehow it seems that I have to come up
with an idea in the next four hours. After a frantic couple of hours
of cleaning, I am giving my foot a chance to de-swell, before getting
the puppet theatre out of the garage and seeing if it still stands.
Poor Rupert is going to be roped into performing, though he has never
done it before, but hey, there's a first time for anything, isn't
there? He doesn't know yet and is out at Lydia's ballet concert, so
won't find out till just before the show. At least he won't have time
to get worried about it. At
the moment I'm thinking maybe Little Red Riding Hood with Jacob the
Wolf and a cameo appearance from Edward the big hairy Giant...
No comments:
Post a Comment