You Are Scruffy

One of the welcome results of stopping chemotherapy is that your energy returns.   This is what has happened for me and I am indulging my creative and constructive side.   This means dressing for the tasks in hand which in my case in summer could mean a painty shirt and trousers and sandals with socks.   I have also got into the habit of shaving every other day or three.

In adopting this mode of attire I am in good? company, at least so far as the whiskers are concerned:

Sandals and socks are good for conversation and it is surprising how many people admit to wearing them - but timidly in their own homes.   Outside in the big wide world they are still a no-no though I cannot for the life of me see why.

My chemo feet appreciated the combination and now I can report that I have another excuse.   I have a broken left Achilles tendon, diagnosed with an ultrasound scan yesterday.   Apparently the two broken ends are 3.5cm apart so surgery will be likely.   Meantime I can shuffle around comfortably - in socks and sandals.   So there.

The day before yesterday Pat accused me of being scruffy - to which I pleaded guilty.    When you had to wear a smart uniform for much of your working life scruffy is an absolute delight.

Anyway today, Sunday, I decided to mend my ways, shave and put on some clean clothes.   Ye Gods it has been boring.

If anybody wants Christmas present ideas I recommend these: