Day 8: Varying Degrees of Panache

This is salsa?

I'm watching this and trying to persuade myself not to go dancing tonight. It's not the dancing itself - I'm sure I can listen to my body and be gentle with it - it's the hour-long drive either side that compresses the bit that hurts.

If salsa class was like that video, I'd be IN! I love the mirror bit at the start.

Today, I was in receipt of brilliance, kindness and sanity at the hands of Jo, an NHS physiotherapist at Frome Community Hospital. I was booked for a different issue, but given that i couldn't walk properly (and that the two issues are almost certainly related) she agreed to look at my back. 

This is not NHS Jo

After lots of calm questions, she announced that there was nothing she could do and that there was, in fact, nothing that needed to be done. The pain fits with the fact I have little or no disc in L4 and L5. It will heal itself as long as I believe it will, and keep it moving gently. She explained that we get all careful with ourselves because we think that 'it hurting' is the same as 'it doing damage', but it's not. Relax, take anti-inflammatories, get on with things. Perfect.


She said something like 'self-efficacy'. I can't quite remember. I do remember feeling quite delighted as I left. Waddling out to the car, getting caught by twinges and making little grunts, I got the giggles. It all seemed quite laughable, and so I did laugh. The woe of 'I can't do anything' was totally transformed by the physio-alchemist Jo. Nothing to worry about. Carry on!

Welcome to The River House

Frome has done Halloween with varying levels of panache. 

The River House, who are quite generous with their cool, did this! Waiting staff, kitchen staff, everyone was getting the treatment. I found the whole thing so pleasing, I had a second coffee (the first one was pretend). 


They had hand-shaped bloodstains on the door too... like Titanic, but in gore. Despite everything I said on Day 5, it was a nice touch. I mean, they didn't stage a slaughter... they'd just had a laugh murdering up the cafe. 

Very pleasing indeed. Top Hat Man is half cooked.
He was having his make-up done between lattes.

That's what pleased me so much. The Day of the Dead faces are properly pleasing in themselves, but it was the joy seeping through what they'd done. It made my day. I've been enjoying it since this morning! Thanks, River House.

Ellenbray, on the other hand... I think 'Could try harder' fits here. I mean, they did something, which is good, but I can feel this 'oh, shit, we forgot... we'll just... why don't we just cover the massive Lego police bloke in bog roll and... well, that'll do, won't it?" I mean, is he a mummy or a ghost? He's not very threatening, is he? It could just as well be a student prank. A lame one. Having said that, I got almost as much delight from this, just in a different way.

3/10, could try harder

So happy Halloween, all. Nobody's rung my bell (I think my house looks a bit scary anyway) and the dogs are calm, though Baba has just knawed her way through a dried salmon dog chew and the kitchen smells of old fish and dog-breath. Nasty. I mean, I gave it to her, obviously. She didn't go out and get it herself with her pocket money. Or steal it. Or order it off the internet or something with her dextrous claws and my debit card. So I take responsibility for the ming. I just thought I'd share it. Dead fish smell for Halloween.

PS - I didn't go dancing. I've saved my sore arse for tomorrow. I'm off for a little wiggle upstairs now though, while my co-dancers pound the hall floor, sweat with abandon and (with any luck) have a bit of a shout. I might just wrap a bit of bog roll round my face as I move, call it a costume. Trick or treat myself. Sorted.