Don't say that word in this house!

We (well, G) drove down to Burntisland today to take my daughter's birthday present to her. It's her birthday tomorrow, St. Andrew's Day. When she was a child I always refused to have any talk of Christmas in our home until after her birthday, so as to preserve the specialness of that one day when she got to be the star of the show.

This has been maintained into adulthood, so much so that the grandchildren hissed at me not to mention it today!

Having had a silly fall on Wednesday, and broken my left wrist, it was necessary that the whole family got busy decorating my cast; Birthday Girl did a nice job with a white pen.

Feeling a bit sorry for myself already - don't know how I am going to bear this stupid thing on my arm for the next 6 weeks. And I can't drive, so I'm stuck here in the village, dependent on the kindness of strangers (hmm, you are kicking the arse out of it now - Tennessee Williams).

Sorry Mr Williams - just feeling a bit fragile :-(