Well The Beloved/Loathed is out of hospital. Noone’s entirely sure what bizarre strain of pneumonia he had but it does seem to be clearing up and he’s much better which is good. I am practising my best nursing skills which largely involve cooking nice meals and ensuring he takes his medication. What is it with men, they seem completely incapable of taking medicine on their own? My Dad has been taking the same pills for 20 years and still forgets them on a semi-regular basis.
The little darling has also kindly passed on the hospital experience to me. Suffice to say I now have confidential records at a south London hospital thanks to his inability to keep various parts of his anatomy within his trousers. Thanks.
Why am I still with him? Why am I knocking myself out looking after him? I’m not entirely sure but if he doesn’t start behaving like The Beloved again (instead of this mutant creature I seem to now be living with) then I might take up his cousin’s offer to knock his other lung out!
I realise that the blogosphere has obviously been missing my insightful comments on the X Factor. Suffice to say that this year I don’t care who wins, it’s no longer about the contestants, it’s about the judges and blah blah blah (just about what everyone else has been saying really). Although how Nikitta wasn’t in the bottom 2 this week was beyond me.
Instead my new TV enjoyment is Torchwood. Fab programme. I wasn’t at all convinced when I first heard about it. I thought Captain Jack was a bit OTT and would be irritating as a main character. But no! He’s fab, the programme’s fab. My only slight irritation is the weekly homage to Cardiff. Delightful city I’m sure but really is Russell T Davies working for the Beeb or the Welsh Tourist Board?