Blast it all, I hate losing a weekend to a headache.  I awoke with the sheet and me hair all knotted up under me neck and shoulders Saturday evening.  The pain wasn't only from the knotted mass, it was also from three thoracic vertebrae have been pushed to unnatural positions.  I had a bloody awful headache, the kind with a throbbing stripe comes from the somewhere below the base of he skull, goes up and over the head and threatens to explode the eyes but never quite does.  Most people get this with the throbbing stripe on just one side, I had it on both.
   I rang round and queried for any of several chiropractors I know.  Unfortunately, all were out on holiday this weekend and there was none in town to see me for the five minutes it takes to sort summat like that.  I spent the rest of the weekend putting ice packs on anything throbbed or hurt, taking a mild pain medication to dull the edge of it and trying to avoid anything would aggravate it in the interim.  Happily, one of the chiropractic lot was returning from holiday ( the rest had just gone out on holiday)  and I was given leave to come in first thing this morming to have it sorted.
   Dr. D, well aware of certain of my pastimes, asked if I'd got this at an anachronistic event or playing footie.  Wits well dulled by by pain and drugs, I said no, I'd got it in bed.  The next question was did I happen to know if there was another one home like that one?  I raised an amused eyebrow,  Dr. D grinned irreverently, the real cause was elucidated.  Dr. D told me get a haircut, I declined ( haircut is a well ploughed field with us .)  By that time I'd lowered meself onto the table and so the magic hands of the good doctor were able to go to work.  Thirty seconds later I thank Dr. profusely, made the requisite cash obeisance and went away to let Dr. get on with official day.
   All I have left now is a tender spot to remind me where the mess was and the lingering miasma of the pain pill to wear off.  I must say, even if I can't drive safely yet for the lingering effects of the drug, it is very nice to be able to turn me head again.

   Me very best little mate is here for time tody.  His name is Ahn, he's happy, round Chinese boy, walking well now, still between baby noise and speech.  His great grandmum, Mrs. Q, has the place directly behind the abode here and already had guests when Ahn's mum turned up with Ahn unexpectedly.  Mrs. Q rang me and I said I'd be happy as ever to watch him.  Ahn's mum brought him round while I fetched out the big toy box for the lawn and dumped it in hug pile on a blanket.  Ahn took one look and dashed straight over to the pile, flung himself into it with a stream of happy noises.  His mum laughed and told me Ahn's dad had car trouble so she was off to rescue him.  I told her I didn't mind if she took all day, I've not seen Ahn much these past two months due to obligations keeping me well afield.  She looked sparkly bright and asked would I like to keep him until about 22:00?  Yes, and done!
   It's been a splendid day thus far.  We played with the toys while the inflatable pool warmed in the sun, had luncheon, went back out and played in the pool for a time, dried off, came back in.  Ahn curled up on the sofa and went to sleep.  I slid the rail between the cushions so he didn't fall out and tidied up a bit.  He's still asleep at the moment.  He'll wake up in a while and we'll have tea, go over to a little carnival and have some more fun on the rides.  He likes the great wheel, stares out as we go up, exclaims in his odd admixture of Cantonese, Mandarin and English at the view, laughs his little head off as we descend again.  I think I'll get take away for dinner and take him to a place on the reservoir I know where there are a few wild ducks to feed and where one may occasionally see deer at the twilight ends of a day.
   After we return from dinner, he'll want the very highlight of his day, bath with coloured bubbles.  Ahn loves water, thinks bath is the most terrific thing a little bloke can do.  He has to be watched carefully around punch bowls, ponds, streams, any body or container of liquid large enough for him to get himself into.  He can swim after a fashion, as babies do, but tires easily and has no sense of it being too deep, of currents or that the punch bowl isn't a bath.
   He'll sleep again about an hour after his bath.  Then I shall have to surrender him to his mum when she arrives.  ( sniffles, dabs eyes with clean grease rag. )

   And what have you dear gentlebeings been about today?