‘I’ve got my ten fine toes to wiggle in the sand’

This is going to be short but sweet as the PAM should really be packing suitcases and doing pre-holiday things rather than sitting here and letting me run amok.

Tomorrow night we may well be sitting outside by the pool looking at the stars and the mountains, sipping a glass of something more than a little alcoholic and feeling the stress of the day’s journey ebb away.

The big teen is staying home – he has exams at Uni first week back and his revision folders alone would take up the 20K  limit.  He’ll be fine – he has an Ocado account and a peaceful house.  His folks will miss him though.

Back to ME!

We saw another pod yesterday and after she had the temerity to attack me with an emery board (yes – the PAM and I jumped and squawked) she pronounced me fit and healed up. She confirmed that my nail is growing and that the PAM has looked after me very well (Oh – like I had NOTHING to do with it!).

The rest of the time since then has been spent in accumulating the various bits and pieces that will eventually get put into suitcases.  The younger teen and his friend have confirmed that they are packed and their suitcases only weigh 11k each – ooh smug.

The packing will get done – it always does.  The to-do list(s) are being ticked and as each gets completed another gets generated.  They will forget something though – they always do – I’ve made sure that all my important things are packed however.

There is no internet access at our destination but there is a swimming pool – the Kindles are loaded up with all sorts of goodies and for a week we are all going to forget about the past three months. Catch you when we get back.

Laterzz you guys x

I’ve got me ten fine toes to wiggle in the sand,

Lots of idle fingers snap to my command,
A lively pair of heels that kick to beat the band!
Contemplatin’ nature can be fascinatin’!
Add to these a nose that I can thumb,
And a mouth by gum have I
To tell the whole darn world,
If you don’t happen to like it,
Deal me out, thank you kindly, pass me by!

I’ve got me two great shoes that never saw a shine,
Trousers I can hold up with a laundry line,
A loverly patch that hides an awful lot of spine!
Shirt-tails flyin’, I’m a bloomin’ dandelion!
Add to these a grin from ear to ear,
And all the proper gear have I
To tell the whole darn world,
If you don’t like the assortment
Deal me out, thank you kindly, pass me by!

‘Searching for the young Sole rebels – couldn’t find them anywhere’

The biggest problem with this blog stuff – apart from the greedy leaders and the thoughts that linger – is that if you miss a couple of days you forget what has happened – particularly when you’re looking at life from a toe’s eye view.

‘Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.’  Go Ferris.

Here we are now on the 25th simply having a lovely Christmas time – or trying to anyway.

High spots in the life of this toe..

The PAM’s dearest friend gave us all a Christmas makeover – the fingernails are sparkly and red, and nine of us toes are painted red too – yes – I’m still in the buff because I have no nail (sniff) – well, there is a little crescent-shaped something hovering down there that may actually turn into a toenail one day just to spite the podiatrist that wrote it off .  The two middle toes have rhinestones and I had a very tender wash and brush up.  This seems to have put the Other Toe into a snit however as it decided to develop a whitlow and sulk until the PAM gave it a salty bath and an outfit to complement mine (not as good as mine of course!).

We also acquired several pairs of very cosy but large bedsocks that are big enough to accommodate me and the other four toes inside the elephant-sized boot – not just practical but stylish too as they are in our signature colours of black, white and purple (couldn’t find any red ones).

The mad rush to buy and wrap presents prior to the LONG journey South brought much stinging and achiness ,and in the midst of it all the PAM had an essay to finish and get off for 20th December.  She did it – as she knew  that she would and whilst the writing of essays means rest and warmth for me, the accompanying angst is not good for any of us.

The doctor has signed us all off again – I am ‘ongoing’ and ‘acute’ and ‘reactive’ – oh go me!

A visit to our Breath of Fresh Air and her lovely brood injected a note of Christmas that had hitherto been missing – you can’t buy that kind of seasonal cheer.

So fast forward to the 22nd – up with a handful of larks, several sparrows and a sky full of thrushes – dragged reluctantly to the supermarket to collect the Christmas food and stow it in the fridge for when we return on Christmas Eve.  We usually go to the place with the ampersand in the middle (must have been the blow from the crate that made me so intellectual) and have a teeth grinding queue-fest with the gold handbag and shoe wearers who NEVER have their purses at the ready.

This time we went elsewhere, closer to home, spent less, got more and were second in a very small queue when picking up the old turkey etc.

Back home and the process of harassing teens, loading the car, forgetting essentials, turning round, collecting the essentials and heading off down the highway took its toll.  When we arrived at our eventual destination (lunch with the PAM’s family) at an old riverside pub in Hampshire, it was discovered that her other half had buster blood vessel – in his eye.  Not pretty but gruesome and a constant reminder of the stress we are all under at the moment – and I ain’t just talking Christmas here!

It didn’t help that the journey there (and back) was in torrential rain and that the motorways were infested with mobile phone talkers, texters, middle-lane hoggers and total morons.

A cold coming we had of it.

The pub was lovely – small, crowded but steeped in Christmas and lovely; the last time I was there it was a glorious summer day, I was twenty years younger and wearing sandals that fit me – how times change.

Can’t tell you much about lunch because – as usual – I was under the table.  I hear the food was good and the company even better – marred only by the close proximity of some elderly and imperious old Hampshire ladies and a rowdy perma-tanned, bleached and tattooed bunch of pikey Hampshire Nouveau Riche.  These words are not mine – they were uttered by the PAM’s youngest son after his shoulder had been grabbed for the tenth time by one particularly loud member (I think he must have been a locksmith judging from the large and noisy bunch of keys hanging from his belt?

Many hugs and kisses, exchanges of brightly wrapped boxes and bags and we are on our way to the posh hotel which will be home for the next two days whilst we distribute more presents and bonhomie, telling the sad tale of my mangling at the hands of the crappy crate.

The hotel lost its fifth star and it shows; still opulent, the staff are still charming and helpful but stains on chairs, dirty grouting and cracked tiles are all signs of  the general decline.  Still the food was good, the bed was okay and best of all – the teens were in separate rooms from us (and each other).

There were good and bad bits about our festive trip and the PAM can write about them later when she recovers from her incipient paranoia.  It was good to see all the folks again though and I received much sympathy, compliments (mostly) on my appearance and shed loads of attention. Yo Ho Toe!

So here we are on Christmas Day.  The presents have been opened and appreciated; the food is being cooked (except for the youngest teen who hates turkey and is having smoked haddock – he wanted lobster but Waitrose were all out).  The eldest teen is having cold feet about Lanzarote (I’m having thoughts of lovely warm feet :-)) as he has exams at Uni as soon as he goes back, his younger brother annoys him (so do his parents) and it would be much easier to just stay at home.

As a consequence the PAM is up and down like a proverbial yo-yo and her other half is having to work even harder to restore her equilibrium.

Happy Flipping Christmas!

Falling crates and podiatrists aside – life is much easier when you are a toe.


‘”Bah, humbug!” No, that’s too strong ’cause it’s my favourite holiday. But all this year’s been a busy blur, don’t think I have the energy’

Well, the PAM has brought new meaning to ‘that’s you off my Christmas List then!’  The list has been cut by half due to circumstances beyond our control.

Not that I’m complaining – she has to sit still with this poor old foot up when she’s writing Christmas cards – and to some extent when she’s wrapping up presents – though she tends to wriggle and fidget a bit more with the latter.

The last two days have been difficult here in V-toe land.

On Friday the teen had to be taken to his Muay Thai lesson as the teacher had no transport (some weird sort of martial art if you must know).  This entailed a trip to the outer reaches but the PAM’s face lit up when she found that these reaches touched on the Trafford Centre.  Truculent teen was dropped off and PAM and the other half hit the TC – she with glee – but not he.

It wasn’t too bad to start off with but the other half had to go to collect the teen and left the PAM in a queue a million miles long.  Goods bought and paid for eventually, she lugged me off to that newsworthy coffee shop where, after some suitably comic moments, she finally managed to heave us all up onto a bar stool with an excellent people-watching advantage and a venti gingerbread latte.

The other half and the teen were supposed to meet her there, they’d go for lunch and have another little spot of retail therapy.


The world descended on the TC at lunchtime.

The other half and the teen had a falling-out which resulted in both of them phoning the PAM separately to complain about the other. I sat smugly tucked up under the bar stool (I was wearing one of my little black WWs with sparkly black trim and a white ribbon bow – so cute).

It was a race to see who was the most cross and therefore walked the fastest.  The teen won but in his haste completely overshot the coffee-house and had to be texted to bring him back.

The PAM and I were captive; all the effort that it took to get us up on the stool was sapped by the animosity being expressed to each other by her menfolk ( the rest of the toes and I NEVER fall out with each other – although there have been occasions where we’ve been more than a little squashed and tetchy).

The other half helped her down and the consensus was to get the flock out of there; the TC is no place to be with an over-sensitive toe, grumpy husband and deeply morose son.

Usually the car is a safe haven but not on that day.  It is a large car but not with two miserable men in it.  Food was essential to restore the equilibrium and after a long and winding route back into civilisation, sustenance was obtained from the other fast food place with a drive-thru (not the chicken-y one).

After the morning’s traumas, I thought the PAM would be kind and tuck me up on her cushion whilst she tackled the ominous essay.  No such luck.   Some of the other half’s temper was caused by an achy-breaky back but luckily the physio with the magical fingers had a five o’clock slot and so we were off out into the rain again in the rush hour.  Plenty of over the top Christmas decorations to be appalled at on the way though.

The other half  had his back cracked and was more cheerful but still no chance of going home.  They have run out of food again and a trip to the supermarket is the only solution.

I’m getting used to the cold – changes in temperature will cause the stinging stuff and occasional jab of white-hot pain – but RAIN!  The holy boot I wear is no protection against rain and on the way back from the car, hands full of shopping, the PAM went straight through the water feature that gathers on the paving stones outside the kitchen door.

Cold!  Wet! Pain!  My chic little WW was soaked as was my boot.  Thank heaven for radiators (although not for drying wet clothes on  – you get that horrible rank false-dry odour that often wafts past you in the office, or supermarket, or TC).

Everyone was talking to each other again and the evening was spent in cushion cuddling bliss for me – essay-agitation for the PAM.  Don’t know why – she should be an expert on corporate harm and negligence by now – ooh – controversial!

Up with the lark on Saturday to collect the other one from Uni. Various issues conspired to make us all late – as usual; my outfit for today was the giant Christmas WW which allows me to peek cheekily out of the boot in scarlet splendour and has apparently caused male envy due to it’s size (the one that accommodates me AND the the other four toes).

It was a long drive North but the heat was ON – and I was content.  The PAM and the other half were singing along to 80’s hits and all was reasonably well with the world – especially when it stopped raining.

The other one is in a shared house now but  there was no frantic cleaning of the communal kitchen or washing up flamingo-style this year  – his housemates are tidy ladies and he meets their exacting standards.  There was a huge pile of recycling to take, but the other half likes doing this and the PAM and I merely sat in the still-warm car and made silly comments.

What looked like several weeks worth of washing and ironing, together with enough equipment to supply a small independent office, was packed into the car and we stopped en route for home to have a late but extremely civilised lunch.  We all avoided alcohol – well nearly – the PAM was seduced by a coffee laced with Tia Maria and was therefore a tad merry when clambering back into the car – hey  – it is Christmas nearly!

Homeward bound and the roads weren’t too bad considering.  A slight detour to buy more fast food for the teen – who had been left home in bed with strict instructions to clean up his mess – instructions that were ignored of course.

Getting his priorities right – the other one unpacked his computer gear first and ensured that he had Internet access before he touched  anything else.

I’d like to say that we all had a peaceful night – I’d like to – but the teen was playing with the other kids in America and the yattering went on all night so that it was almost a relief to get up with the other half who was heading off to work at some ungodly hour.  It should be mentioned that his bad back was caused by a combination of crouching ready to pounce at paintball and spending most of Thursday sitting in the jump seat of an Airbus 317 whilst it went to Madrid and back via Valencia.

The PAM was suitably sympathetic and the other half had a nice time despite his back.

Oooooh, time for Christmas wrapping – but not the waitress sort.

“Take off your shoes and pat your feet, we’re doin’ a dance that can’t be beat, we’re barefootin'”

Way-hay!  The other half has gone on a flight to Madrid (and back again) today leaving me, the PAM and the sleeping teen in the warm – after yesterday we deserve to rest but the PAM has been horribly active this morning in an effort to avoid writing her sociology essay – only 7 days to go PAM!

So far we are on our second lot of washing, the old flowers have been thrown out and fresh freesias (go Tesco) have replaced them.  We also have a bucket of blue hyacinths ready to bloom for the old Crimbo celebrations.  A box of bits has been gone through and stuff that has been dumped in the big teen’s bedroom whilst he is away has been moved to a pile in another room  – it’s true – this place IS known as Haemorrhoid House (because of all the piles – doh!)

There is washing up still to do – oh and lunch – my idea of day spent curled up on my cushion under her ironing board cum desk whilst she battled with the differences between social harm and criminalisation has effectively disappeared.  Her to-do list keeps getting longer and longer.

Still – a quieter day than yesterday.

My lips are sealed about the morning (yeah – I know – toes don’t have lips – but this is all fiction anyway so who cares?)

Lovely to see our Breath of Fresh Air though and catch up over hot chocolate afterwards. It took me some while to recover from the changes in temperature – no matter how much the PAM wraps me up there is always a cold draft that cuts through and stings like billy-oh.

Home for lunch and a trip to the good old garden centre where a time-limited shopping was remarkably successful – unless you are a cold, stinging toe that wants to be home in the warm.  Christmas  – Bah Humbug!

But the worst was yet to come…..

……The POD!

This was the fourth pod we’ve seen in 6 weeks (I don’t count the student pod – who was very sweet but was remarkably cack-handed when she tried to dress me). This appointment was to check my other nine toe-mates and the feet they are attached to.

So – the good news is – the PAM still has beautiful pulses in her feet (of course) and no sign of any sensory damage anywhere else – just moi. We passed the tuning fork test and ‘shut-your-eyes-whilst-I-poke-your-feet-with-a-ball-point-pen’ test.  Hoorah!

Then it was my turn to have the starring role – gulp – he got out a scalpel!

He poked and it hurt.  He prodded and it hurt; he stuck his scalpel into places where no one has ventured before without the PAM having to be scraped off the ceiling – the other half let her squeeze his hand – hard.

Contrary to the last pod’s opinion – this one reckons my toe will have a nail – eventually – and that there are signs of regrowth – but it could take up to 12 months and (I love this bit) it may come out warped (tee-hee just like me!).

So – overall – the feet are okay but I have to go back again between Christmas and Lanzarote time for another appointment.  We have purchased tons of dressings, bandages and sticky stuff because the pod says I have to be kept covered at all times – EVEN in the swimming pool – but at least I can go paddling.

None of the pods we’ve seen seem to agree with each other but perhaps that is because my prognosis is so uncertain – it looks as if I shall be hanging around with my nine mates for some while to come yet – but no barefootin’.

Come on PAM!  – eat some lunch – wash up and get on with that flipping essay!

Toe good toe be forgotten – I hope

King Henry V – William Shakespeare

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill’d with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips;
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!”

The PAM and I are girding our loins for battle – Grrrrr.  Setting our teeth and flaring our nostrils wide. One last simple quote …..

…… ‘Integrity has no need of rules‘ Albert Camus

Toe hot ta trot – or walk very far – or stand for very long – and running is toetally out of the question

The old PAM is struggling a bit – I think she is grieving for the loss of her toe nail. Me too.  She worries too much.  Things will be better next year.

I did my best to cheer her up this weekend but the effort has made me a bit weepy and that has given her something else to worry about.  I blame the pod for saying “Three days without any seepage and we’ll consider it to be healed”. Oops.

I let her take me out shopping on Sunday; to the local garden centre to buy a few vaguely Christmassy things and some presents.  This enforced reliance on others does not sit well with the PAM; yes, she can buy presents on-line and have them delivered to the door but she likes to go out and look at things, pick them up and sniff them, touch them – weird stuff like that. The other half has a very limited window of opportunity for present shopping, once his eyes start to glaze over, the PAM knows that she has provide a diversion or get out quick.

I don’t help really; within half an hour of setting foot (ha ha) in a shop I start to complain. I just don’t like standing or walking, and she insists on doing both of those things.  Luckily the garden centre has a nice tea room – even if it was full of over-excited kids clutching their presents from Father Christmas.  Even tucked well under her chair I felt vulnerable as they thundered around the room clutching remote control cars, pink-cheeked dollies and craft sets. You can tell the cheap parents because they won’t let their kids unwrap the present, you just know that it will be going home to be hidden in the wardrobe till Christmas or given to some other kid as a last-minute present.

Oh, roll on Lanzarote and the bliss of a heated swimming pool to soothe me and my nine fine toemates, but it is Christmas first, and it is going to be a quiet little Christmas in this house with people (and the cat) not lost but gone before,  and everyone stressed and anxious about the future.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

“An end to all this crap.”

“Can you get that on Amazon?”

“I wish.”

Apart from when things get dropped on you – or you have to walk a long way – or stand  – or sit in a draught – life is much easier being a toe.

We’ve put the tree up though. It looks very pretty – even from this V-toe’s point of view.

The sun will come out Toe-morrow, things will be brighter then …..

Morning all!

TOO exhausted to post yesterday – hell of a day.

Early appointment at the podiatrist – third one we’ve seen now – why can’t they be more gentle with me? I feel violated.

Despite feeling bleary-eyed and dopey, the PAM, the other half and I got to our appointment in time.  Freed from the customised boot of choice; I was disrobed and examined minutely for signs of anything nasty.

I appear to be infection free. I don’t appear to have osteoarthritis – the nasty aches and pains are due to residual bruising and will probably continue for some months yet – lovely.

The bit that cut me to the core is that there is also no sign of a toenail.  It has been two months since that crate dropped on me and it seems that in addition to severing my toenail and causing a HUGE bruise all over me, it killed my toenail completely.  There has been no new growth over the past two months so it is unlikely to happen now.

So the PAM and I have months of not being able to  wear appropriate footwear whilst the nailbed gets tough and uncompromising – and there is always a further risk of infection in the meantime.

Thank you crate – you great ugly lethal lump of moulded plastic just waiting to cause damage to unwary workers.  I hope someone smashes you and you end your days as a recycled dog poo bin  – or worse.

Moving on – because we have to – having been swabbed and redressed in a totally over the top bandage, we embark edon a short shopping trip to stock up on food. Whilst the other half is on late shifts, we are somewhat housebound all afternoon and evening – which is nice – well for me but not necessarily for the PAM.  She should be studying for her next essay, revising for the exam from hell and reading up on important paperwork but gets a little stir crazy when the walls start closing in.

She is far too easily seduced however, by FB and silly games, Twitter and comments that range from serious to satire to plain silly.  Her Kindle is also a bad influence;  it is no use her telling people that she has reference books on it, she also has Coin Hover and Mahjong – hah! Blown!

She did actually do some studying yesterday – and there was a rather blissful bout of dozing during the morning to make up for the early start.  There was far too much procrastination however.

To be fair – she did take off the hideously unflattering dressing that the pod had applied, put me into a chic little indoor number and for the benefit of our lovely EEEEE, gave me a snowman face and took a picture for FB.

Another high point was that the pod also said that I will be able to enjoy the sun and heated swimming pool waiting for us in Lanzarote.  I may need to wear a slinky little dressing to prevent any nasties creeping into my crevices and take some antibiotics with us – just in case.  So me and the other nine toes will be able to wiggle in the sand a little and forget about bureaucratic bungling and and the autocratic arses that inflict it on us – controversial – better back off before the PAM notices.

It has been alleged that I am a bad influence on the PAM.  This may be so but  – nothing has been proved.

Time to wake up the other half for another shopping trip.  We are cooking pasta tonight and have to get all the bits. Mozzarella balls and grated Grana Padano anyone?


Oh and EEEEE – don’t ever stop bothering xxxxx

Nobody knows – tiddly pom – how cold my toes – tiddly pom – how cold my toes – tiddly pom – are growing

Yay! Today has been another inside in the warm day.

A very long lie in after the other half had gone out to scrape off the snow and toddle off to work.

Lush smelling shower  – hoorah – salt water bath – boo.

The post brought important letters but the contents cannot be divulged – it’s no use trying to torture me – someone’s already killed my toenail and made it fall off – so you can forget the bamboo shoots as well – I will not give out the information.

The PAM laughed a lot though and looked a lot happier than she has for the past couple of days  By the rate at which she was texting – she was imparting vital secrets. Oh how those thumbs flew!

I enjoyed a very brief exposure to the elements after the shower and then it was the lighty whitey indoor dressing so that I was protected whilst trying on my festive willie warmers – which arrived in the post with the important letters.

The festive red WW  engulfed not just me – but my four little friends and half the foot.  It has a shiny red ribbon to stop it from falling off and we’ve sent a picture to FB so that my hoards of fans can admire the look.  I fully expect Heat magazine to be doing a feature on toe-couture within the next week or so.  The two black WWs were customised this evening and provide that chic and sophisticated look that I SO desire.

No dozing off today or going back to bed for the afternoon nap – the PAM has been busy tappity tapping, downloading documents  and making  extremely important phone calls.

A question for my fan base – if you write about people – like ‘In The Thick of It’ and you change their names but EVERYONE knows who the character is based on – that’s satire innit?  And you can’t get into trouble for satire can you, because it is just made up stuff?

I’m the only V-toe there is – so people had better not try to write anything about me that I don’t like – are you listening PAM?

There was a brief respite this afternoon when the PAM did the maternal bit and cooked food for the thundering teen – who was hyper-critical as usual. Why DOES she bother?  All that standing on one leg (the other leg) whilst she’s cooking makes her look like an overweight flamingo – in plain clothes – she won’t wear bright pink.

The more civilised sprog phoned this evening  – on his way to a party to get riotously drunk; with the news that he was a runner-up for the University Challenge team – he’ll be on it next year – you bet.

The PAM’s Blackberry has continued to be busy with texts and FB alerts all evening – but she can sort those out without disrupting me from my comfy cushion thank goodness.

If it wasn’t for this annoying pins and needles stuff, the achy joint and the stinging – life would be quite pleasant here in the land of the V-toe.

Oh well – off to bed – we are all up early in the morning (apart from the slumbering teen) to visit the pod and get the update on just how much damage that lethal lump of moulded plastic did when it fell on me.

Toe-dle Pip!

Toe reading – only in America

No lie-in this morning. The PAM’s other half was an early riser and once he was off to work, she had to wake the noisy teenager for college.  Unusually she only had to call him once.

This salty bath business is no joke.  Five minutes.  That’s what the pod person said.  Five minutes soaking in a warm salty bath.  That does not mean at least fifteen minutes whilst you eat your breakfast, get bored by the news and flick through a million channels hoping for some distraction.

Hurrumph!  At least she hasn’t wrapped me up in the boring white dressing yet.  Upstairs and further distracted by Twitter; my moments of naked freedom are limited.  I had hoped that she might get engrossed in http://www.beatoereader.com/ but the instant she spotted the phrase ‘Your internal-self is displayed in your left foot‘ I knew I was onto a loser (I live on the left foot).

The paragraph continues:

‘The position and shape of the toes say a lot about their owner and the energy in one’s body

By observing someone’s toes, you will know a great deal about their past and the experiences they have lived through

Toes reveal how a person copes with their feelings, as well as their thoughts’

Doubt if there will be any toe-gazing in this house today.  Still at least we are all in the warm and provided she leaves that tingly electrical machine alone, a nice doze in front of ‘Homes Under the Hammer’ should be in order.

Forget the peace and quiet – the thundering one has returned from college and is making his presence felt.  The boy who hoards cutlery and crockery in his room for days and is too tired to wash up his dirty pans, is complaining about his mother’s porridge bowl which has been left to soak for half an hour in the sink and the fact that his father buys orange juice with bits in.  I despair.  Can a toe despair? Well I am anyway.

Today I am wearing a very minimalist dressing and the tingly machine has stayed in the box. Things are looking up (they usually are when you are in my position).

Aaaaaaand we’re back in the room.

Today has been warm and indoorsy.

As predicted HutH had a soporific effect and the PAM sat up with a start when the TV segued into the more abrasive ‘Watchdog Daily’ or some such whingeing programme that has  migrated to daytime TV in order to trawl the sick and the elderly (talking about the long-term unemployed is outside my remit and I deliberately start to twinge if she watches ‘Jeremy Kyle’).

So did she accomplish all the things that she wrote down on her to-do list?


She did the washing and the drying, then she started reading up about Lanzarote.  We are going there for some winter sun and this toe will be sorely displeased if it doesn’t get to dip itself into the heated swimming pool and lap up a few rays.

We didn’t leave the house ALL day – unless you count hobbling round the back to the bins to pick up a package that the lazy postman put there rather than hang on a few seconds whilst we limped to answer the door.

Guess what was in the parcel – yes – the Purple Ronnie willie warmer! I have to hand it to her, the PAM is a dab hand with the needle and thread.  In no time at all  it was customised to fit  and not fall off when walking.  It is amazing what you an do with a piece of elastic.  Not sure if she has anything that is turquoise with orange stripes in her wardrobe though and she does SO like to accessorise.  I almost wanted to go out to see if it will keep me warm – not that much though.

I have to admit that I absolutely love not having to go to that horrible draughty grey building every day.  The combination of carpet and fluffy-boot slippers kicked up a force field of static that made me even more tingly than the electric machine does.   It was either too cold or too hot and there was far too much standing around and walking for my liking.

That period of my life must count for the most miserable ever – including the occasion when the ham-fisted general surgeon decided that as the PAM wouldn’t let him get his hands on her gall bladder, then he’d have a good hack at my ingrown toenail instead.  He kept stabbing injections into me until in the end the PAM just told him to get on with it.  He put the wrong dressing on me and I had to suffer the indignity of sitting in the the treatment room at the surgery in a bucket of warm water for HOURS whilst the nurse tried to soak the dressing off.

It is SO much nicer being at home – and there is much less risk of any half-witted buffoons treading on me. Yes! It still hurts even if it was an accident and you apologised.  Still if an optician can’t see me – how can I expect anyone else to? Perhaps, instead of knitted willie warmers I should have a foam rubber bumper about a foot wide around me.  Not sure how the PAM would cope with that though – back to the drawing board.

Tried to get some proper kip this afternoon when the tired other half returned but although the body (especially me) was willing – her poor over-taxed brain would not switch off so I was dragged from a warm soft bed and propped up on a footrest whilst she got rid of her angst through the medium of word.

She really needs to learn how to chill out a bit more.

The evening was uneventfully quiet; a takeaway was ordered and despite minor interruptions from the noisy one, I was able to sit on the big cushion and be pampered for hours.  This is the way I deserve to be treated after all the pain and distress I have suffered.

She’s winding up for bedtime now and undoubtedly feels more than a little bit peeved that I’m getting more hits on the blog than she does.

Talent always rises to the surface darling – even when you spend your days avoiding puddles and piles of  dog poo.

Equal Rights for Toes!

Okay – so this is my first blog – it doesn’t look that difficult and the person attached to me (to be known as PAM from now on) is so knackered she has no idea that I have taken over temporarily.

This has been a horrible day from a toe point of view.

The shower this morning was fine; then she had to ruin it all by sticking me in a plastic container full of salty water to wash off the nice smelling shower gel (Snowfairy from Lush if you must know).  I don’t care what the podiatrist says – salt water STINGS!

She was quite gentle drying me and as a consequence I held still whilst she took ANOTHER photograph of me with her Blackberry. I am SO photogenic.

Then comes the bit I hate the most – the dressing.

It is SO boring!  We have two sorts of dressing – white indoors and white outdoors.  Boring.  Boring.  Boring.  Her other half used to put smiley faces on me but there hasn’t been much to smile about lately.

I know she’s bought these willie warmers for me – but where are they? Christmas post bah!

The other day I rebelled against the dressing and caused an allergic reaction to the adhesive  – I made a HUGE blister on my back.  She used her ingenuity with some non-allergic tape though and the blister disappeared.  I had another trick to play on her today though; I’ve been sending aches down to the place where I join the foot – that’ll teach her to drop things on me.

I wanted to stay in the warm today; propped up on my cushion with the occasional hobble to the loo or the kitchen and the possibility of a proper lie-down on the bed after lunch – some chance.

As soon as she started putting the finger bandage over the top of the indoor dressing this morning I knew we were in for some – exercise.

I don’t mind going out in the car. PAM doesn’t drive and her other half always puts the heater on so I am nice and warm on the journey (she has the heated seat on but  that never reaches me). We usually have to get out of the car at some point though and that’s the bit I hate.

We parked up in the wet and draughty multi-storey car park.  I got slightly damp on the way to the lifts and the stinging began.

We walked to a shop full of glasses and up some stairs – loads of stairs – I hate stairs.  Then a woman puffed air in PAM’s eyes and she sat down to wait.  Then a man put drops in her eyes and she sat back down again and waited some more.  Back to the eye puffing stuff then into another room where the man looked in her eyes with a bright light and accidentally bumped into me.  HEY!  I am the prominent white toe sticking out of this black suede boot!  Use your eyes you optician man you!  He apologised to her and sent her back downstairs so that another woman could take pictures of her eyes.  What about me then?  Does anyone give a damn about all this getting up and down I’m having to do?

They brought me home again then – after a trudge through the shopping mall (horrible hard floor), back into the lifts and across the wet car park.  The bliss of the car heater but the sudden change from cold and wet to warm makes the stinging even worse.

She went for a lie down when we got in.  I was looking forward to a nice rest but she attached this electrical gadget onto her foot.  She dozed off whilst this thing sent electrical pulses through me, kept me awake and made me feel quite numb. We’ll have to put a stop to that then.

So I have rebelled. I have taken over her blog. From now on it will be the world according to Vee-Toe.  Look on my works ye mighty and despair. 🙂