Hip- Hoppalong

I’ve taken Arnica, rubbed arnica cream into it, taken three Neurofen and am sitting on an ice pack. I tripped by Battersea Square as I was thinking about a girl who had tripped in Battersea Square….
I cried and thought I had broken my hip. But I am assured by Jim, Sybil, Lyn and my instinct that it’s just a bad bruise.
I’ve been waiting for something like to this happen, now that it has I can relax. Him, her and me all hobbling.

This morning I walked in the intermittent sun to Balham to have acupuncture. I have mustard seeds in my ears to help heal my gall bladder.
‘It was the French Physician from Lyon in France, the late Dr Paul Nogier, in the 1950’s after seeing one of his patients cured of sciatic back pain with the use of ear acupuncture, who then began to research and develop modern ear acupuncture, and carried on researching and refining the therapy for over 40 years until his recent death in the late 1990’s. In fact his work is so well regarded that the Chinese refer to him as the Father of modern Ear Acupuncture.’
Dr. Nogier realised that the ear looked like a foetus and before you could say pass me my smelling salts had discovered hundreds of external points to help with all sorts of ailments from asthma to my gall bladder. If Dr. Nogier hadn’t gone wandering into the woods and seen an old woman prod a geezer, with sciatica, in the ear with a sharp stick I wouldn’t be walking around today with ears full of mustard seeds.
So after my wonderful treatment this morning I sauntered up to Clapham South and arrived on time having stopped off for my fabulous smoothie in CRUSH.
I recommend anybody who wants tp slurp lunch to go there. It really is all fresh. It’s seemingly expensive but actually the concoctions are so filling that it takes up two meals.
After the show I walked a bit, bussed a bit, jumped off a bit, walked a bit more and finally dismounted on the Kings Road for some salad and pears before taking a number 19 back to the flat.
I unloaded me bits then set off for the Royal Court Theatre.
Three shows in as many days.
DEATHTRAP is for the West End touristy set.
5 GUYS NAMED MO is for the East End creative set.
CLYBOURNE PARK is for South West intellectuals.
All three did for me but the one that really got me was CLYBOURNE PARK. Not that I am an intellectual but the writing, directing, acting, and full frontal attack on racism is funny, cutting, shocking and one of the best evenings I’ve had since Mark Rylance graced us with his Johnny Byron in Jerusalem.
The cast are wonderful. Martin Freeman and Sophie Thompson are gut-wrenchingly good.
Clutching my script I set off back to the flat. Grabbed a 19 to get me over the bridge and was so deep in thought that I went flying. A driver saw me go down but when I jumped up, like the Phoenix from the Ashes, he drove off. It’s gone midnight and I’m a little stiff but ol’ Hoppalong here will cope….
It would be now that I would start snacking on almonds, cashews and hazelnut But I’m told I have to stop eating nuts if I want my gall bladder to repair. Nibbling on nuts was my one guilty pleasure. I’ll have to think of something else..
I’m off now to get another ice pack from the freezer, take another arnica and drink a steaming hot cup of camomile tea with honey.
The kettles boiled so I’m off.
Sleep well.