The morning was spent in Lymington Hospital, to and from which Jackie drove me. First off was a physiotherapy appointment for my hand. This is apparently doing well. I need not see the therapist again, but will continue finger straightening exercises and massage myself for another six weeks. We then had a wait for an orthopedic appointment to discuss the knee x-ray results. I have no cartilage either behind the kneecap or on the left side, but there is some left on the right. The pain relief is working, and with careful management of that, I am encouraged to walk on the flat. On our return, the wind having desisted, we toured the garden replacing hanging baskets which, Jackie having taken them down before the gales, suffered minimal damage.
On the peach roses A fly was supervising its infant on its first outing into the world. Can you see the baby?
Another attractive variety of allium has flourished.
After lunch, Jackie drove me to the pharmacy at Milford on Sea to collect co-codomol which had been omitted from the medication collected yesterday. The fact that twice the normal amount of tablets had been left for me was rather ironic, since I had agreed with the physiotherapist that I would ween myself off them and turn to paracetamol. I now have a telephone appointment to discuss this with G.P. Dr. Moody-Jones. On the strength of all this, Jackie left me at the green at Milford and I walked up Park Lane, joining the cliff top path at The Beach House, turning into West Road and home through Shorefield. OK, it was a little more than the recommended half an hour, and not totally flat, but I managed it with just a few aching muscles that had not really been put to use for six months.
I had a long talk with a gentleman tending his roses in his small plot opposite the bus shelter in Milford.
The wind coming off The Solent was still strong
enough for a windsurfer and a few small yachts to relish its power, and,
passing an empty bench, a woman, already being propelled along by the gusts, strained to contain one of her dogs.
A new set of warning signs has been posted along the cliff top since I was last here.
Attracted by honeysuckle in the hedgerow leading to West Road, I thus avoided missing
the rather splendid caterpillar lurking in the shadows. I rather like its red warning lights. Can you see it in hiding?
I definitely felt that Cheryl, the physiotherapist, had let me off the leash.
This evening we dined on smoked haddock fish cakes with cheese centres and topping; parsley sauce from our own crop; piquant cauliflower cheese; firm young peas and creamy mashed potato; followed by Lymington-grown tangy strawberries and vanilla ice-cream.
Pretty as was the presentation of the meal,
it tastes better off the plate.