Years ago when the smalls were tinsy wee, I remember overhearing Girl 5 ask Boy 7 what hippies were for. He replied, 'To keep your leggies on' which I thought was s smart response.
Well now aged still just 45 I have found out that hippies can be a damn nuisance. I was born with hyperflexible hips and as a result splent most of my childhood upside down, doing walkovers and sitting comfortably in 'the splits'. Unthinkable now. Pay back for the party trick has snuck on me over the last few years and I was finally driven to wave the white flag and surrender down at the doctor's surgery. The subsequent X-ray has revealed that I am 'Normal. No Further Action' Snort! That's what they think. I hate doctors. They always think they are the only intelligent person in the room. Anyway I've been batted away as usual but the dull ache in what Jesus Jones the Pontius Pilates teacher would quaintly call my 'seat bones' remains. As I am still not rock and roll enough to get addicted to Benzadrine, or whatever it is they all seem to live on in LA, I'll just have to lump it.
Looking for reasons has never been one of my weaknesses. Stuff happens, we all know that. However, I think a winter of sitting on the kitchen bench or perching on the radiator downloading songs and films and ordering books and chatting with friends on the internet has not just affected the state of the housekeeping, but also narsed up my arse, as it were. Jip in the hips. Now where did I leave my zimmer? If only I could find my glasses... Bugger I'm going to miss Emmerdale at this rate.