Have retreated to my own bed, in the middle of the afternoon on the first day of the summer holiday. House has been colonised already. All I can hear from here are birds, and the dog licking itself. I can't see the dog, so that's fine.
Just got back from the absolutely fabulous new hospital at Peterborough. When #3 had his MRI, on a Sunday 10 days ago, the hospital diagnostic bit was completely deserted. I have never been into a hospital where the reception is unmanned, where the lights flicker on and off, where you can hear the humming of machines you can't even see. A piece of paper said 'Wait here until we come for you'. Today, the place was over-flowing. The fracture clinic was standing room only. We had to wait an hour, but the Registrar, when she came, was lovely. Explained all the bits of damage #3 has done, although neither of us really understood 100%. At least it is not some scary disease, although I stupidly left the piece of paper I tore out of the colour supplement, (describing the symptoms of a paraolympian which made me nervous) at home.
#2 is still recovering from having savaged his hair yesterday. He called out to me from the bathroom in a voice of pure distress "oh my God, what have I done". Even with my gammy leg, I ran. I expected blood, or a broken window. In fact he had somehow managed to cut the front portion of his hair short,to about a 1 cm length, whilst leaving the top part long and parakeet-ish
Very astro boy. He was devastated. I took it seriously, of course, and he ended up cutting the rest off to match. Now he wants to get some doc martins...