Eugene William Ackerley

( Eugene William Ackerley )

Whenever the weather turns a bit warmer I always thinking about taking a trip. Nothing too extravagant. A weekend at a bed & breakfast in Kent or something. But..I've a dog I'd have to find a sitter for -- and now a duck as well, and that seems like so much hassle. Not to mention the fact I hardly see the reason to take some person time when I've no one to take it with. Might as well just save the money and take Molly to the park for a run.

As everyone knows, (or, anyone who has nothing better to do then read this, I suppose) I work in general medicine and that means I do a lot of lovely check-ups and things for families and children. It is easy work and I do enjoy it, but every so often...strange things happen.

One of the boys that I see, his name is Chester, showed up today with a young...duck. Apparently he'd found the duck at the side of the road and the thing was injured and he didn't know where else to go with it so he brought it to me. I mean, fixing a duck isn't that much differen than fixing anything else. Thing was, Chester's mother showed up to collect him and was quite adament about not bringing along any barnyard animals to their posh London flat.

Guess you all know where this story is headed now, don't you?
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This morning, I was having my usual breakfast of a scone, strawberry jam and clotted cream (with a spot of Darjeeling from that atrocious pot my mother bought me). Bit of a rich breakfast, but I had no idea to what extent it was actually horrible for me.

And it is, actually, horrible for me. A bloody spoon of it has about half a day's intake of saturated fat. I had no idea at all, really. It isn't as though we have proper labels on those posh little jars.

I suppose his means I ought to go back to porridge. Certainly better for the heart, anyway, and these days my heart can take all the help I can give it, really.

My mother came to visit me last Monday. She doesn't come often as she doesn't particularly like Molly or my general flat-cleanliness levels. I do keep things neat, but I suppose if she didn't judge me for the occasional discarded sock than no one would, and we can't have that.

After a few hours of disappointing conversation about how she'll never have grandchildren and complaints about the fact her tea was cold, she went off too the shops leaving me to...well, pick up my socks, I suppose.

All this to say that today, by owl, I received a package from her. It seemed she blamed my teapot for the troubles with her tea and not her chatter and so she thought to replace it with a better one. Here is a photo of what she sent me:

( I promise, I love my mother )

[Private to Dev]

I'm going into work Don't need to tell you why. Hope you're all right?

Looks like I'm going to a Valentine's day party. I guess Molly will have to make other plans

[Private to Himself]

1973 was a long time ago. Probably shouldn't still be having dreams about the people they brought into A&E that day, but I always do this time of year. Funny, it's funny but some of the smallest injuries -- I mean, on the surface -- were the worse. Broken -- everything. Broken everything on the inside. Merlin, I can't help but--

Makes me fidget, it does. Thinking about all of that. Things in General are so much easier to manage, really. All I have to do is worry about bad coughs, sprained wrists and the occasional wart. It's better. All of what I'm doing is much better.

Shouldn't think too much more about 1973. I don't want to be grim if I'm going to that party-thing.

Molly.
(please pay no attention to my sleeping trousers)

Dev is coming over this afternoon, so I've actually plans for this Saturday which is nice. I mean, not that I don't have plans for some Saturdays, I do. There is always laundry and shopping but I've plans for this Saturday which is something I didn't expect.

So that's nice.

I had a tuna butty the other day, and I remember thinking that there are different sorts of tuna so I thought I'd go have a look at that and all I found out, really, is that tuna species all have very odd names. 'Skipjack' 'Little Tunny' 'Bigeye' -- really, they sound more like dwarfs from Snow White than tuna fish. Wonder which it was I was eating, though I suppose with enough mayo and some rocket it doesn't make a difference.