Dear Susie
Thanks for the merengueries. If only I'd known earlier! I've had to arrange for a sand blaster for the kitchen floor as all the local boy scouts are on standby for duty in Iraq!
I would clean it myself but following Norman's advice, went to B&Q this aft and purchased some wooden poles, limbo dancing for the use of! Well, I have to tell you............from the traction ahoist my infirmary bed.... I don't recommend it!
To the tune of the steel band chiming away - live, by the way and hired from my local community centre (no half measure thought I, get the feel Ches and move with the groove) I commenced my gyrations learned only from rare sightings of Judith Chalmers somewhere in the Carribean.
I should say, that prior to this performance, and bearing in mind Jude's caution about the female anatomical disadvantage, I considered, in much the same manner as the handicapper rates a horse for the Grand National, the limbo pole should be placed 6 of our english inches above the regulation 4 feet. After much ado, this was agreed. Anyway to the first roll of number one drummer and something about islands in the sun, I threw my head back in wild abandon and assumed a quasi crab position.
Encouraged by the cheers of the neighbourhood who had collected to witness this apparation I sallied forth. First, my back locked, shortly thereafter both my hip and knee joints locked, and thus I fell to the ground. As the paramedics trawled me away on the end of a hoist, limbs in situ as found, some local trollope was heard to say that I might have been better applying for entry to a Manx pageant as the live emblem. (as an aside, never underestimate your mother's warnings concerning clean underwear; fortunately I had dressed suitably for the occasion). You can laugh, mustered I, but did anybody tell you that you're actually playing on a couple of old oil drums! And your 'islands' was sharp. There was almost a festival atmosphere as I left.
Now, I have no wish to cast whatever those flowers are -nasturtiums, wossnames or something - but why is it just happens that Norman was visited by his local constable when putting into practice a suggestion I made concerning morse code, a neighbour and a fence, that I end up as the Three Legs of Man exhibit in A&E? Could it be that the height of the pole should actually be 9 feet and 6 of our english inches and he set me up?
My next venture is to explore the genre of the Pole dancer and in keeping with my mission I have enrolled on a course in Polish. Those B&Q poles will not go to waste! Norman, please note.
So from my NHS repose, trolley number 7, corridor 2B, I wish you a sweet good night's rest; mine should come with a couple of mogadon and a lot of horlicks.
Many kind wishes that your tomorrow is a kinder day
Chesca
I've just had a thought........what about the Tarantella!? Nah! I'm seriously anachraphobic.