|Not a beach - we have sandy soil!|
He wasn't feeling very well when he set out, so he decided "it was best" not to eat or drink anything all day.
He figured that as he was sitting in a motorised buggy (hired by his pal with the dodgy knees), he wouldn't be exerting himself much if he climbed out at each hole, hit the ball, and climbed back in again after his shot.
I think we all can guess what happened next.
|Barley, thistles, willowherb, hedge parsley|
Don't forget he has not played golf for the best part of a year. He can barely walk from the car to the house without stumbling these days. It was his last chance to play with his pal before he headed back south, after a week of being sensible and waiting in the clubhouse for the guys to finish their game. And not even drinking beer. How sensible can you get?!
By the time he got home that night, he was dazed and confused. I don't know how he drove the car, I really don't.
And yes, he had arranged for his pals to come for a bbq that very evening.
So at least there was a big strong male there to catch him when he almost fell headfirst into the fire.
I administered a pint of water and a peach. Because I didn't know what else to do.
|How much willowherb do you want, exactly?|
Sunday night was a riot of D&V.
Monday morning ditto.
Me? Call me Matron. But I am a terrible nurse. I kept having to run outside to breathe the fresh air...
So I didn't make it to the office today.
I was too busy scrubbing floors and boil-washing FL's clothes.
By late afternoon, he was able to manage a piece of dry toast in the shade.
And I had pulled myself together sufficiently to pick up my knitting and collect my library book: "Instructions for a Heatwave". Ha!
Let this be a warning to you all:
Water is your friend.
Sunshine is your enemy.
Stay in the shade.
Listen to your wife!
A Public Service Announcement, brought to you by FL and Roo.