Fifteen or so minutes ago I asked my feet (the ones in two of my photos yesterday) what they would like to do, it being seven in the evening here. “How about the ford again?” I asked. I had a strong feeling they would go for it like a shot – it being their idea of bliss (as you probably know) – but they didn’t; they stopped to think for a time before deciding. How surprising! Then my feet asked me, “Don’t you think we’ve had enough exercise already today? All day long we’ve been up and down stairs, and up and down step-ladders; we’ve been covered in earth and dust for two hours at least, then hosed before being splattered with various colours of paint, then hosed again!” How shocking! Well I didn’t expect that.

-“Well, you tell me what you want to do,” I implored.

-“We want a nice long shower, food, and then we want you to cut our nails and paint them with pretty pink nail varnish!”

It seems that my feet were rather dismayed to see themselves shown on my blog last night. They miss Australia where they were constantly kept trimmed and painted in a variety of colours because they were always on display in sandals or thongs. Apparently, they like to feel cared for and attractive, even though they are a little bigger and broader than most women’s.

Hence, I’ve had a delightful shower and I’m now sat here in my cerise towel at my laptop; some frozen spare ribs are cooking away merrily in the oven (no work); and after dinner I’m going to treat my much neglected feet (of late) to some “foot time”. Perhaps later they will not feel too embarrassed to sit on Chris’s lap when we watch television – he might even notice them and give them a cuddle.