A smidge better

Lorraine and I sleeping on the wrong sides of our bed lately, and this morning I was able to get out of the bed unaided, although Lorraine still had to help me with my socks bless her. I am a small smidge better.

Lorraine working really hard getting things ready, while I faff crookbacked around the edges.

Texting with Keith then did some work on a job for my French pals today. The job that was supposed to arrive eight days ago has finally turned up late this afternoon. But now I have to biff it because of the move.    

Had set up an interview with Sarah Barnsley this morning, but we met some technology obstacle which I couldn't find a work around for. Sarah very good about it however. Emailed squad cast for help, and we will try again tomorrow on a different computer -- a bit of a waste of our time. 

Got a copy of a magazine called The Alchemy Spoon with a poem by me in called Rehearsal Notes for First Contact. I feel bad because I was hassling them having seen someone post a photo of the new issue online some weeks ago. Turns out they had bought it through Amazon, but the actual print run didn't arrive till recently.

Lorraine organised a massage for me this week, and I organised a second.  My back is very painful, and I can't stand up properly, which I am finding trying.  

Escaped into Deep Space Nine. Lorraine and I were saying that it has become the new Death in Paradise. 

Below my poem. Probably a bit obscure.