And it was those block heel boots! Chapter 1

I am fed up lying here looking at the ceiling. I’m not thinking of England or anything like that, (no such luck) no, indeed  it’s unusual I’m lying down at all.  At my age I  really should have known better, so what brought me to this incapacitation anyway?  Well a stage three hamstring tear did … and you’re right its “aaagggggonnnnny” 🤢.

Don’t panic I’m not an athlete 🏃‍♀️ it’s not  caused career limiting devastation  but,  all the same, it’s restricting. Surprisingly  ‘Google’ had little in the way of informing me  about this condition so “life’s little dramas” has been driven by the absence of material on line and has resulted in my very first blog.  Back to the details..

Have you ever been so looking forward to something? I was that day. I was meeting a former colleague  to hatch work plans. He’d just finished working on a programme for the BBC so my inner actress had been ignited and  I had arranged lunch with wine ( of course) to contemplate our next collaboration.

I pulled out last years winter boots, 👢the ones with a bit of a block heel ( they still looked good ok  😙 don’t judge, but they are important in the story).  I felt they would give me height, elongating my  less than lean silhouette and conceal the inevitable  menopausal midriff , making me  look  at least 20 years younger ( it was for TV after all).

By some unintentional alignment of the stars I even managed to have scheduled my nail appointment before my meeting,  to ensure the appropriate  level of sophistication and colour would  gracefully  enhance my glass holding action. As everyone knows essential details for every budding actress 💅🏼.   The girls at Fabulous do such a fantastic job on nails and the atmosphere is so Steel Magnolias. Why not visit them?   I digress….

Iphones are irreplaceable  for the modern menopausal woman, especially the weather app  to advise me on what clothing is suitable?  This naturally then leads to  the right choice of  handbag 1)  Is it the right colour for the coat/boots?  and 2) Can my brolly hide gracefully among the  unchecked detritus that lurks within?  I can confirm all the right choices were made as the  drama that day was to prove………

I answered emails, made appointments, surveyed Facebook,  skimmed Twitter and generally managed my life through my iPhone like the rest of the  world does on the train. It’s only 20 minutes 🚆 so  my screen time was limited in case you’ve become concerned that the iphone is  featuring a little too much in this story. I am by definition a silver surfer but do my best to maintain a mainstream interest in all things Apple.

I arranged  en route to meet my colleague in Waverley prior to our lunch at Bon Vivant where I was looking forward to nice food, wine and a catch up. If you haven’t been it is a lovely restaurant with great ambience and fine wines. Give it a whirl … we couldn’t that day…..

It was pissing with rain in Edinburgh🌧, and I was   slightly smug  at my preparations when I noted my colleague was missing  his galoishes and sou’wester. He was however  very smart in his matching tweed jacket and waistcoat.  Fleetingly I wondered whether  bald men were irritated by the rain, I can’t tell you what it does to my hair,  hence the hood and the brolly!🌂

After a swift cocktail🍹, with  no real alcohol content of any note,  we ventured out into Princes Street and the  torrential rain. My colleague was less than eager to venture out so I thrust my  slightly despoked brolly up, which  the grandchildren had used  to catch balls in the summer. I wrapped a congenial arm through my colleagues and off we trotted in good spirits despite the torrential rain toward our restaurant. We gibbered and glided with best foot forward into the recently refurbished  St Andrew’s Square.

At this point I want to point out he was  just a colleague; yes  we have enjoyed a few glasses of wine and lunch once or twice.  We had  worked together in our respective roles but in all honesty he was   still just a colleague and had never really seen me vulnerable.  You  do know what I mean by that?  VULNERABLE? It’s not really a condition I like to publically  display to colleagues or for that matter strangers. 😲

But within minutes of entering the water laden St Andrew’s Square, my rubber block heel (remember those) left boot aqua-planed quite gracefully but unexpectedly across the recently laid  marble styled paving. With my arm entangled tightly around my colleague to share the brolly, the resulting action from the sudden slip was to start to impersonate Bambi on ice. Down I went squealing with pain and twirling in a pool of incessant rain.  Legs akimbo, fear etched on my eyes, writhing in agony,  feeling trepidation,  suppressing anxiety,  recoiling in distress but most of all ‘greeting like a big wean…….’   what the hell just happened?