They say calamities come in threes, so I ought to have been a bit more circumspect after the two tyre episodes. On Monday I managed to cut my thumb on the door of the dishwasher (the strong spring on which reminds me of Arkwright’s till in Open All Hours). We spent most of Tuesday morning at the minor injuries clinic in Beverley, where they took a look, wrapped it up, gave me a tetanus jab and a prescription for antibiotics, and referred me to Hull Royal next morning. The doctor there advised me to let it heal on its own, but to have the dressing replaced at intervals. Off to see our local practice nurse at sparrowfart on Monday. In the process I got to meet some lovely people, but have to say there are better ways to achieve that result.
Though this has cramped our style somewhat, we’d had a pleasant evening with Annie and Chris before they set off on their holiday (leaving us to house-sit) and a most enjoyable lunch next day in Beverley as guests of Annie’s friend Linda. We took a few trips out as well: Hornsea and Withernsea one day, Beverley another and Scarborough, Filey and Bridlington on Friday.
The weather has been remarkably fine much of the time we were away: we sat in the garden under the parasol one day, and have both acquired a bit of colour. Back here it seems to have been pretty dry, so I can leave the grass for a day or two.
Our journey home took close to six hours. We’d decided against going back the way we’d come, planning to do the M1 and then the M25 widdershins instead of getting snarled up at Dartford/Thurrock. So we got snarled up on the M1 instead, and finished up doing the M69/A46 route down to Warwick, then the M40 - and getting snarled up on it as well. As usual, we’ve witnessed some appalling driving - and not all of it mine. No right answer, unless you want to lend me your helicopter.
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