Magnetic attraction
Apr. 17th, 2011 04:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyFor my whole life, my mother has sung the praises of Betadine (a povodine-iodine solution). There is no injury that cannot be helped by a dab of this magical liquid, or its even more magical cousin, ointment. It fixes everything. I wouldn't be surprised if topical application of Betadine cures cancer. It's only a matter of time until someone tests this.
This morning my mother declared it was time to replace the dressing on my burn. Removing the clear dressing pulled the skin off the top of the blister, revealing that my arm is looking pleasingly pink and healthy underneath. I got out the Betadine; imagine my surprise when my mother scoffed. 'No,' she said, 'I bought this yesterday.' 'This' was a box of 'SilverHealing aqua protect' elastoplast. Waterproof bandaids, in other words, with silver in the padded bit, which does away with the need for Betadine. Gosh. Technology, eh?
Today is also my mother's birthday. Tomorrow she's having a colonoscopy. So that's dampened her celebrations somewhat. We're having birthday cake tomorrow night instead, after which she will be returning home. It's been fun, even if she does enjoy watching old episodes of Heartbeat far more than I do. Incidentally, UK f-listers, what's Nick Berry doing these days?
Another of her viewing choices was an ancient episode of The Good Life, which I enjoyed more than I did Heartbeat, particularly because Penelope Keith was wearing a bright red, flared jumpsuit, topped off by a Hermès headscarf. It sounds horrible, but it looked fantastic. On her, anyway, in the 70s. I suspect I'd look foolish decked out like that today. Anyway, it was odd watching it now. When I was little, I thought the Richard Briers character was pretty much the perfect man, but this time I found him a bit irritating. I still want to be Felicity Kendall when I grow up, though. (I've just looked up Wikipedia to check I had the right decade and found out that, in real life, Penelope Keith was once High Sheriff of Surrey. I hope that means she got to arrest people.)
Day 100. I like this gnarly tree in my neighbour's garden
Day 101. Small burn and large bandage
Day 102. In the end I persuaded myself it looked romantic rather than blurry
Day 103. Model knee
Day 104. Caterpillar, angry that I poked it
Day 105. Underfoot
Day 106. Overhead
Day 100a. Crow on a pipe
Day 105a. A little present from my great-aunt
Day 106a. Snail graveyard
This morning my mother declared it was time to replace the dressing on my burn. Removing the clear dressing pulled the skin off the top of the blister, revealing that my arm is looking pleasingly pink and healthy underneath. I got out the Betadine; imagine my surprise when my mother scoffed. 'No,' she said, 'I bought this yesterday.' 'This' was a box of 'SilverHealing aqua protect' elastoplast. Waterproof bandaids, in other words, with silver in the padded bit, which does away with the need for Betadine. Gosh. Technology, eh?
Today is also my mother's birthday. Tomorrow she's having a colonoscopy. So that's dampened her celebrations somewhat. We're having birthday cake tomorrow night instead, after which she will be returning home. It's been fun, even if she does enjoy watching old episodes of Heartbeat far more than I do. Incidentally, UK f-listers, what's Nick Berry doing these days?
Another of her viewing choices was an ancient episode of The Good Life, which I enjoyed more than I did Heartbeat, particularly because Penelope Keith was wearing a bright red, flared jumpsuit, topped off by a Hermès headscarf. It sounds horrible, but it looked fantastic. On her, anyway, in the 70s. I suspect I'd look foolish decked out like that today. Anyway, it was odd watching it now. When I was little, I thought the Richard Briers character was pretty much the perfect man, but this time I found him a bit irritating. I still want to be Felicity Kendall when I grow up, though. (I've just looked up Wikipedia to check I had the right decade and found out that, in real life, Penelope Keith was once High Sheriff of Surrey. I hope that means she got to arrest people.)
Day 100. I like this gnarly tree in my neighbour's garden
Day 101. Small burn and large bandage
Day 102. In the end I persuaded myself it looked romantic rather than blurry
Day 103. Model knee
Day 104. Caterpillar, angry that I poked it
Day 105. Underfoot
Day 106. Overhead
Day 100a. Crow on a pipe
Day 105a. A little present from my great-aunt
Day 106a. Snail graveyard