S'now Joke

Quite why the artic weather has stopped me getting to the blog I don't know. Monday, like the rest of the world I didn't manage to get across the M25 so spent most of the morning across the fields with Hugh meeting lots of dogs and dog owners all out to enjoy some of creation's finest sights before man and his mucky boots and tyre tracks comes along. This is also the time at which we remember that Hugh is not white but distinctly OFF white if not pinky grey. Not the pinky grey of a flamingo standing at Lake Natron at sunset but the rather grubby, pinky grey of a balding greyhound trying to keep out the cold. Tuesday I made it to work although most of my colleagues did not. Wednesday they all came in, I wonder if it was something to do with the phone call they had saying that I would deduct a day's annual leave if they didn't.
Fortunately the threatened fall on Thursday evening did not arrive as we were all walking back from a housegroup meal at an italian restaurant to celebrate Christmas 2007. Yes that's right, 2007. With all that happened last year with Mrs Claus' Dad dying and bodybuilder in hospital we never got around to our annual celebration. Next month I suppose we should go and celebrate Christmas 2008. We also celebrated Mrs Claus' birthday which was nice. Taking Mrs Claus to the Lakeside on her birthday when she suffers from Shopping Phobia was also a miracle but we got rid of the old bag. Suitcase I mean, we bought new suitcases for our trip to Israel.
Which brings us to this morning. "You sit and wait for lady, she hold your hand" This is the practise nurse lining me up for the next lot a travel jabs. Needles and me is not a good combination. The things that have happened before, during and after injections would be good material for one of those books that everyone always says they are going to write. Today was full of even more surprises - just when I thought I had coped with a sharp jab in one arm, she comes at me on the other side with a whole new syringe. Off I go back to the waiting room whilst Mrs Claus goes through her jabs with barely a flinch. "Are you OK, you look a bit white" "No, I'm fine, just holding this wall up for a while. The sad thing is that having agreed to work from home for the rest of the day I got stuck into lots of stuff, moved my arms around a lot and almost forgot about the matching holes in each of my biceps. Mrs Claus, having worked a night shift in the home for retired elves had to go to bed and woke up in agony having slept on one of the pierced arms. I know it will all be worth it just as long as they don't declare another war!