Crutchless

No  -  not knickers.  I have temporarily abandoned my crutches as my hip seems to be settling.  I have to turn my leg in and put most of the weight on my toes but I can move without pain so long as I remember how I need to hold my leg.  Parsifal will be relieved when he realises that I have 'cast away my stick' as he is convinced that the crutches are some evil appendage which I have grown with the expressed purpose of beating him to a pulp.

I am not sure where he got his ideas about big sticks from; I have never threatened him with anything more damaging than a water bottle set at a very fine mist and then only when his behaviour moves beyond the pale.  And mostly all I have to do is say "water bottle" and he stops what he is doing.  And Poppy, with her newfound painless state is pretty efficient at keeping him in line.

My neighbour across the corridor, a 90 year-old Italian man, Senor SDS, is worried about a Council of Owners meeting to be held in a couple of weeks.  His English is limited and faced with some points which confused even me he asked for help.  I more or less told him how he should vote, especially the Motion to close the meeting as we had three choices  -  yes, no or abstain.  I told him that we could still be sitting in the meeting until Christmas if we all voted 'No' to that motion.

But he worries me; he was complaining of breathlessness and what I gathered was either pain or weakness down his left side.  I encouraged him to see a doctor but he has no doctor here and he needs one who speaks Italian.  I googled 'Italian speaking general practitioners' but could only find two, one about a 20 minute drive away and the other in a regional town.  Considering the huge influx of Italian migrants in the 1950s it is odd that none of their descendants seem to have studied medicine.  I suggested that he should ask the man who looks after the apartment when  the SDS couple are in Switzerland where they mostly live.  Mario is Italian with an Australian wife and should be able to find my neighbour a doctor.

The Limerick:-
There's a notable family named Stein,
There's Gertrude, there's Ep and there's Ein.
Gert's prose is bunk,
Ep's sculpture is junk,
And no-one can understand Ein.