The debate about masks

They were told they had to wear a mask for work....

Some people have a sense of humour.

But some are just a few shillings short of a pound!

Monday 13th

Going to sleep on a Sunday causes Monday. And this month Friday 13th also fell on a Monday.  So I wasn't overly surprised to find another disaster occurring today.  I say 'another' because I'd already had about five in the last six or seven days. 

Today started with a migraine at 3a.m. as most days do but a couple of paracetomol and codeine, a marol and a sumatriptan started to diminish it and a cup of tea and some toast (provided by Rich and Jo who were both wandering around the kitchen at 4 a.m.) finished it off. So when I got out of bed at 6.35 I felt fine.

Until I put my right foot on the floor at which stage I recalled that my bursitis from Friday had not got any better. For those who don't know, bursitis is excess fluid and usually occurs on the knee (water on the knee) or elbow (tennis elbow). I have lacked a right kneecap for over fifty years since I had a motor accident. Consequently, if I kneel for any length of time I get bursitis which is a painful swelling. You would think that 54 years would be long enough for me to learn not to kneel. Silly you if you really think that. And no, water on the knee is not cured by a tap on the ankle!

Anyway, I swore my way downstairs and Jo and I went out shopping.  My first trip outside the gate for about ten days and my first trip beyond the local postbox for over three weeks. Jo did all the shopping while I stayed in the car.  She has been doing every bit of shopping since February and most of it for the last couple years. But that's OK because she loves it.  I mean hates it.  Absolutely hates it. Unless there are clothes or books involved. 

We got home and unpacked the shopping and then drove to West Kirby with a view to having our first café visit since February. 

A cappuccino and a sausage toastie later we headed back home. 

I took my keys, etc., out of my pockets and thought 'That's interesting. No wallet.'  It was then I remembered the date. The 13th. 

A few phone calls later and none of the shops we'd been near had got it. Jo then had to head off to work.  We agreed to leave it to 5pm before phoning to cancel all my cards. 

At 1.30pm a young lady called Nicky from Hoylake arrived at the door with my wallet in her hand. Not only had she been caring enough to bring it well out of her way but she seemed as delighted as me to have reunited us. 

There are some good folk around. 

And perhaps Monday 13th isn't as bad as Friday 13th after all.  How did your day go?