Cannonballs again

An interesting, even a good news day. It started early, with an endoscopy, which I have discovered is a delightful experience. No pain except for the prick of the needle for the anaesthetic, a nice, dreamless sleep and drowsiness which took me back to bed for more sleep after HH had conducted me home. I may have left a few chores undone, but it was worth it.
 
Then a visit from the man who has just washed and repaired a smallish Persian carpet I inherited from my godmother, restoring it to a beauty we never suspected, to give an estimate for repeating the process with a slightly larger one. HH and I are complete ignoramuses on the subject of carpets and had no idea of the treasure we had under our feet. Anyway, Denis put us right immediately, saying that it’s the best he’s seen this year, vintage, and worth a pretty penny (at least five times more than the smaller one). We’ll now have to decide where to put it after he has cleaned and restored it – he has prohibited us from taking it back to the house in the hills! Nice to know that we have something of value to leave our girls (who will only sell it, as it wouldn’t fit into their lives), or to help us out when funds run low.
 
And this evening, the 2nd last of my round of routine check-ups (they really go to town on these here). This time with a pneumologist, who to my relief poo-poohed the verdict of the GP and the cardiologist that my lungs resembled those of a heavy smoker (he said they just didn’t know how to interpret the X-ray and that my lungs look like that because I’m thin and reasonably tall). What did come as news, though, was that at some time I had contracted TB, but it had cured itself. 

I tempted fate by walking back down the street lined with cannonball trees, and picked up a couple of flowers to celebrate my survival (worth looking large). Now back home and it’s time for a beer. Cheers!