poor miss Blyon & poor mr Rowe

Last night, my flatmate Anna (whose biggest fan I play football with on Monday nights, incidentally) returned from sojourning at home for a week.  Great!  But no.  It turned out that she’s been ill the whole time, probably brought on by standing outside Edinburgh airport in the freezing while it was evacuated because someone wanted to throw away their rucksack.  I feel angry on her behalf, and sad for her.

In a few weeks’ time, my Daddy was due to run in the European Championships in Helsinki – his first time doing something on that level, I think – doing the 1500m and maybe more.  He’s a good runner, and is happy when he runs, but something’s gone wrong with his knee, so today he’s going in for keyhole surgery.  I feel sad/angry for/with him too.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr …

One thought on “poor miss Blyon & poor mr Rowe

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