Snaps to April (I'd link to you but you haven't left your url) for her spotting that yesterday was indeed Guy Fawkes Night - or Bonfire Night as we also call it. I've not been to an actual Bonfire and fireworks display for years - which is very disappointing. This year I really intended to - and I really hoped my brother would be visiting so we could go together like when we were kids. But he couldn't and in the end I couldn't be bothered. However our people in neighbouring streets actually had fireworks in their back-gardens which meant I could see them from our bedroom window, in bed. Now that is what I call service - and a good bonfire night. Lots of lovely sparkles and a warm feather quilt....perfect. The Dear Other declares that I would spend my entire life in bed if I could - I fear he may be right. You can knit and read and (in my house) surf the net from bed; so why get up? It's cold outside the covers (except when I'm having a hot flush) - bed is best. Why stand if you can sit, why sit if you can lay down? I don't think of myself as lazy; I just like to be *comfy*.
Today you have options.
For the squeamish amongst you - head further down the post and give me your opinions on curtain fabrics for mah bedroom.
For the unsqueamish amongst you there are pictures - of my scars. In order not to catch anyone unawares you'll have to head over to flickr to see them. They are just (just?) scars now - 2 years down the line - my mets diagnosis in September distracted me from the fact that it was 2 years since my mastectomy. I haven't talked about all the surgery lark for a while now. Mostly because I'm sturdily ignoring the scars as much as I can. I still don't like catching sight of my reflection unprepared in the bathroom mirror. I still have to stop myself from flinching when the Dear Other touches it - he likes the fact that the skin is so very smooth and soft along the line of the scar. I think I care far more than he ever has. ::sigh:: grrrr
And in close up: