I am lying in bed feeling exceedingly sorry for myself. I have very bad gut rot and it's all my own fault because I pride myself on my lead-line stomach. And every one knows that pride comes before a fall.
My stomach is legendary, it's eaten all kinds of weird things from octopus (not recommended) to dry roasted giant ants (surprisingly sweet and no the legs don't get between your teeth) and nary a bit of trouble has it ever given me.
But today I am brought low not by the highly suspect rice salad,which has been sitting in the larder rather than the fridge because I could not fit it in, but from a slightly dried out piece of ham, which I ate for breakfast.
It looked a tad green but not overly so a bit discoloured but waste not want not in these times of austerity. Maybe it was the comment from the girls at a lunch party yesterday about how well they thought I'd have done during the war years with my scrimping, saving and salvaging - it went to my head and all other thoughts especially those of self preservation went out the door.
Anyway about lunchtime everything started to come back so to speak, and by supper time well I wa seriously uncomfortable and in truth really rather unwell. dear Charlie returned to find his wife moanin in the upstairs bathroom. One look and he hightailed it down again occasionally when the bulky got to him hollering up to see if I was still alive.
Eventually I moved into my room wher I write now from my new toy and apple iPad 2. Dear Charlie is convinced the stomach ache is a sham somi can play Wight e new toy, but I say no. However much I want to play ther is no way I would risk my stomach's reputation of being lead lined!