The past couple of weeks have been weird and mucho has happened!

Firstly, an update on the wee singing man outside my work.  He has now learnt himself a new song - it's now (yes, i'm not predictable)...Where the Streets Have No Name, by yes, U2.  I think he has an obsession!  What we've also noticed is that he needs no music to walk along the street singing loudly!  Yesterday he was shouting the line "I go there with yooooouuuuu" as he walked past my window and had no mp3 player. 

Nostalgia moment:  I don't know about you, but when I was growing up Santa used to come round the streets in my town on a big sleigh towed by a 4x4 (not quite Rudolph, is it!?) and would ring his bell and wave to all the children.  His slaves, erm...I mean elves, would go round everyone's door at the same time collecting money for a charity, etc.  (I hear you wondering where this story is going!) Well you would hear the Christmas music blaring from the 4x4 and the ringing of Santa's bell long before you saw him and you would get that excited feeling in the pit of your tummy, then it would get louder and louder and then, just when you thought you would burst from excitement - you're jumping up and down on the furniture, in and out of the front door and causing your 'rents to have that smile on their face (you know what i'm talking about!) - he would come into sight and you would be so happy......well........that's what its like with the wee singing man!  There's a build up as you can hear him well before you see him.  I'll maybe see if I can capture the moment for you all next time!

Sooo...I was out with the girls last Saturday in my home town.  Started out with a little Singstar, which just rawks(!) and by 1130ish we headed on down to our local.  To get to our local we have to walk through the Public Park, which is all uneven and the street lights rarely work.  Well, with the winds being so bad, a huge tree has been uprooted from alongside the path and has broken all the tarmac.  As the 3 of us were walking along, and I must stress that I had had a drink but was in no way wasted AND was wearing flat shoes, I went right over on my right ankle (which had been weakened by strained legiments when I was younger) and hit the deck.  At first I was concerned that I had done my ankle in and although it was sore it was quickly becoming apparent that my knee had taken most of the fall.  Luckily I hadn't gone through my jeans, and it was dark so I did not see the extent of the damage straight away.  When we got to the pub, R took me to the toilet as it was really sore.  The blood was trickling down my leg and we had to clean it so instead of using water like a normal person, she whipped out her anti-bacterial hand lotion and squirted it into the wound - ouch is an understatement.  Luckily the adrenaline and alcohol was still pumping so didn't really feel the full affect of pain.  THEN, on the way home...on the same bit of path, I again went over on my ankle and made the already wounded knee even worse!

This is what I woke up to on Sunday morning:

As you can see, not only is my knee all hacked up, I also have a very predominant bruise on my left hand, and my ankle is swollen.  After I cleaned it up, it looked like this:

A nice big chunk out of my knee!  And now, a week and a bit later it looks like this:

Nice, eh!  I'm sure you're all happy to see my war wounds!

Rhona out.