Raspberries and Kisses

I was in the house chatting to Hannah and Evie and heard distant screaming. It did not sound like 'I'm in trouble' screaming, instead it sounded like 'enraged and exasperated' screaming. It was Martha.

Just in case it was 'I'm in trouble' screaming I went out, like a good granny, to investigate.

Where are you Martha?

I'm in the green field.

Most fields are green but I knew the one she meant.

There she was, standing there with a loaded ball thrower  and two expectant dogs sitting far too close and not giving her a chance to give a good throw. It must have been an exasperated scream then.

I called the dogs back and Martha gave it her best shot. The ball landed four feet from where she stood and Jess was the victor.

So, as this wasn't working out I suggested we go pick raspberries.

The girls ate their fill and I gathered some for the freezer. We spent an enjoyable half hour picking, chatting and eating then headed for the house to get the berries frozen. The quickest way from the fruit patch to the house is a step down to the yard. It's really an upturned Belfast sink (broken) propped up with a breeze block. Rough and rustic. Last year, when I had the knee injury, I found it a difficult step but this year - no problem. I was feeling pleased about that as I stepped down. Pleased for about a split second. For - as I stepped down my foot slipped and I fell hitting the small of my back on the edge of the sink. There is a moment, after a fall, when the mind processes the damage done. The most annoying thing that had happened was that my left thumb nail was bleeding. My elbows were grazed and there was a tiny cut on my right forearm. My lower back was bruised. Grandchildren and child came running. I was petted and kissed better by the little ones.

Lucky, lucky me. I fell heavily on a step at a stone wall and the worst thing to happen was a sore thumb. Mind you, as I write this, I feel my lower back a bit achey. I'm off for a soak in a hot bath with a gin and tonic and a couple of paracetamol. I think those Martha and Evie kisses are starting to wear off.