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OK. Technically this is day 15 in the ongoing saga, but hopefully it's a bit more like a regular update and rather less like me relentlessly documenting life without ligaments :) (Instead, I shall relentlessly waffle on about rapper.)

DERT practice )
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The story begins at Day 1. The short version: I ruptured knee ligaments skiing, and am currently mostly sitting on the sofa.

Day 11 )
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The story begins at Day 1. The short version: I ruptured knee ligaments skiing, and am experiencing life with dramatically-reduced mobility. Today: shopping!

Day 8 )
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The story begins at Day 1. The short version: I ruptured knee ligaments skiing, and am currently experiencing life with dramatically-reduced mobility.

Day 7 )
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From the comedy injuries department:

Last night, coming home late, I snuggled into the high collar of my jacket as I did it up. And zipped my top lip into the zip.

I now know why "button your lip" is a phrase. Zipping your lip is extremely painful.
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This morning, the London Eye (née Millennium Wheel) was advertising free rides for people in the queue before 0930. We figured that a ride on the Eye in the (forecast) snow would be pretty, so bounded out of bed uncharacteristically early.

While queueing, we idly wondered whether a wooden structure - just visible over a small, marble-clad wall and some hedges - was Art or a climbing frame. Being of an enquiring nature, I hopped up onto the wall to look.

My knees are a bit shoddy at the best of times, and the usually-sound one is currently in a rather sorry state (see bicycle, falling off sideways), meaning I hopped up rather awkwardly. And the thing about marble covered in slush? It's quite slippery. Also, marble is quite hard on one's shins, elbows, face, etc.

Anyway, it had started to snow (bang on the forecast time of 9am), but not in an attractive way. Tiny, spiteful pinheads of ice settled round us. By the time it was our turn on the Eye, London had settled into a rather unappealing grey. I'd taken my new toy with me[*] but results are disappointing )
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Hmm. This morning, I very probably shouldn't have gone to work. However, Monday's forecast snow was a non-event, the weather didn't look that bad, and I'd promised to deliver something to the office for one of my colleagues. So off I went.

Walk to Ealing Broadway in the lightest of light dustings of snow. Catch train to Reading. Arrive at Reading. Collect bike.

And that's when it went wrong )

And do you know what? I still love snow. As I arrived at work, I stopped to watch a red kite wheeling around the sky, snowflakes tumbling all around it. Even Reading looks pretty in the snow :)
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One of these days, I fear I will be found dead in mysterious circumstances on a Monday morning and some CSI-style person is going to make a meal of the fact that the backs of my hands and wrists are covered with bruises and small abrasions.

Such things are, of course, the result of an all-day rapper practice on Saturday, followed by a rapper pub crawl on Saturday night. With the best will in the world, you end up with swords scraping over your knuckles and forearms and taking small chunks out.

But you know all about my rapper weekends... too much dancing, too much red wine, not enough sleep. So instead, I present some new culinary experiences from the weekend:

Christmas Pudding Cheese )

Haggis and Whisky Soup )
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Recently, I saw a display of cheap inflatables intended for swimming pools. A ring with a horse's head, a dolphin. The seams of the plastic stuck out, rather than being nicely taped flat.

And suddenly I remember standing in the North Sea on seaside holidays, and the feeling of such a seam scraping across legs made cold and goosebumped by the water (my inflatable ring was yellow with a horse's head, from memory, although given the colouring it might have been a giraffe). As sensations go it was actually quite painful, but very distinctive and something which - in a life which rarely involves swimming in bodies of cold water and even more rarely involves inflatables - I haven't felt in years.

I set myself to wondering what other sensations might have got lost in the last few decades. The one that immediately sprung to mind was grazed knees )

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