I tried the salmon again today, this time in with the dreaded soup I’ve been living on. More pain, and very bad for about 15 minutes. Conclusion, no more salmon. But we did get a prescription from the doctor for all sorts of really nourishing liquid food. I can’t think why that didn’t fill me with joy. Anyway the Pharmacist didn’t have it in stock. Fortunately Beryl had shot a wild haggis , so I dined on Haggis and Baked Beans whilst the others had Haggis, roast potatoes with Spanish sausage, and roasted Mediterranean veg.
Lots of friends came round or telephoned, including a contingent from the drama group and I got a huge hug off Jill, which reduced me to tears. It’s scary finding out what people think of you. Several other crying sessions today, but only brief.
I’ve made another decision. To make a confession!
The older coders may remember a magazine called “Freelance Informer” with assorted articles about the odder sides of freelancing. There was the Old Coder, and Jim with his dreadful agent Samantha, and I was A.F Cerdd – articles with details changed to protect the guilty and confuse the innocent.
I’ve still got most of them, and a few more sitting in my head. True my recent clients have been deplorably respectable and honest (Yes I do mean D and M and E and S), but I can remember the older ones so well.
There was the White Witch (her description, not mine), and the amateur gynacologist, and the Freemason. Go back further and there was Miss Holloway and her cats, and the Special Constable and the Man Who Shouted.
It would be a pity to lose all those stories, so I’ll dig them out and post them as well. After all they are all true and it is all the places I’ve travelled to.
And that is what Christopher Robin told me to do.