Oh, June

I’ve had a weird month. Suffice it to say that illness and infirmity lurk everywhere. To make things even more interesting, following a series of unfortunately clumsy events, I broke my hand today. 

As a teenager I broke my finger by slamming it in a car door—the finger mended itself after a few weeks in a splint. In my twenties I broke my toe by running into a door—the toe mended itself after a few months in a surgical shoe. This break, in my thirties, involving a bike basket and a signpost, is trying to outdo the others in pain and complexity, and I will need a hard cast but hopefully not surgery, don’t know yet. I have been put on notice, and I promise to be very very very careful in my forties.