Thank you for a lovely lot of therapeutic emailings and comments sympathising with our Emergency Room Easter. Some of the gulpingly terrifying anecdotes that accompanied them, make our tiny finger episode look like a mere walk in the park! This prompted me to remember something that periodically ran through my head while in the ER: We are lucky ones. We can fix things. And I do feel, oh, so lucky.
In the meanwhile, the newly named One-Armed Terror is doing just fine, thank you very much. I gave the "Whacka, Whacka" parenting technique, (the term Mr and I give for the sound of the helicopter, ever-hovering style of bringing up kids), a good go but to no avail. Shadowing the small person in an attempt to prevent further catastrophe, was a patent failure, only prompting dramatics and defiant leaps off even taller buildings in a single bound. Sigh.
Speaking of defiant, the single tomato plant that has kept us in salad all summer and wildly, maniacally, overtaken our driveway, has had an extreme manicure. And looky here, at this giant salad bowl filled with green, never destined to ripen much tomatoes. Mr Myrtleandeunice has that look in his eye again - that would be the chutney-making look. Apparently this time, it's a recipe for: Loads of Green And One Red Tomato Chutney.