Finally, after waiting a few months, I had my 'Laparoscopic Choleocistemy' (gallbladder removed, in non-medical speak). It went fine, no more unpleasant than any of these things are and the hospital was briskly efficient (despite evidently being thrown into chaos by taking in extra swine flu patients) and, thankfully, chucked me out at 8 pm. My 'responsible adult' (partner) took a very dozy person home and I have been on sofa ever since. I am planning to brave my first walk out tomorrow! I can now stand up straight, and as long as I don't sneeze or laugh or bump into anything or anyone nothing hurts undully.
I am now taking orders to rest (have sick leave for three weeks), and am reading lots of books and dozing. However, without the support of my 'responsible adult' (I had to declare I had one on the medical forms, though my partner said that the answer to that question was surely 'no') it would all be a lot harder. In fact, my 'responsible adult' has been following this armchair preserve maker's commands, whilst we try to save as much produce from the overabundant plum tree this summer.
So far: chutneys and jams. One stunning recipe was found online: Mirabelle with silver edged lavender
So, I am overdue the post on French markets! Imagine, if you will, entire villages in Nord-pas-de-Calais with people setting out their stuff: from desirable garden produce like peas in their pods to onions as large as a curled up cat; to lots of kitsch like embroidered pictures of Pierrot or clowns holding on to lamp posts, or winsome kittens; and last year's most unwanted present, coffee makers... there were a zillion families trying to get rid of their tassimos and nespressos and whatnot. Is French tat any more chic tan English tat? Well, yes, it often is...
I will share purchases made next blog entry!
I couldn't resist. . .
5 days ago