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Saturday, 2 April 2011

Frank and Barbie

Unexpectedly roped into building a barbeque with many instructions in Latvian, Hungarian and other assorted languages to accompany the bulging bag of nuts, bolts and washers. Time taken? First break after placing three legs on only to discover you are supposed to put twiddley bits for holding plate on first. Unscrew legs. Screw legs back on, third one will not. Lunch break, cooked a fish that I bought on the way back from bike ride. So incredibly disgusting I threw it out and had a tuna sandwich instead. It is now five o'clock. The barbeque is finished. So am I and Alice who used to be Frank is coming for a barbeque in two hours.
I have a very challenging week coming up. The Spanish health service is excellent but unfortunately means I am reminded every two years to turn up for routine X-ray. Alice has hers on Monday, me on Thursday (I'll miss the group, blast). I have been in both the prostrate clinic and lady X-ray  clinic with Alice as moral support. No, no, not at all...I am in the waiting room. But I did go into a consult once as she was very worried. Did I mention the consultant asked which one of us was the patient? Of course I did. I'm still smarting with being mistaken for a bloke.


  1. Barbecuing the birds or the ant?

  2. Perhaps she goes with you at mammogram time.

  3. Sorry about the fish. I had some perfectly revolting sardines in C de P the other day. Luckily there were some lurking cats to help me out. Is there something wrong with Med. fish?

    I believe they encourage you to have a nice lie down at the prostrate clinic.

  4. Lamb chops.

    ElizT. Mutual hospital support. I hate such places!

  5. Christopher. You would have to ask Alice. Not in my vast knowledge data base.


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