Yes, you read right, I’m feeling sorry for myself today. Why? I got all dressed up early this morning to go to the Botanical Gardens to have a walk in the cool, but also, to take a few floral portraits. My favourite kind of happy snaps. But did I get there? No. I did not. I locked up, went down the fire escape out into the carpark at the side of our building and made to cross it and … Managed to pull a hamstring … I think. I mean, I think it’s the hamstring. As I can flex the muscle okay while I’m sat down. I just suddenly cannot walk. Well, properly that is. There’s no swelling, no bruising I can see. Something definitely went wrong between my front door and making it downstairs to the parking lot. What though, I have no idea. I’ve iced my calf muscle and slathered it with Valtaran cream in the hope that might help. I’ve also popped a Tylenol for any swelling and pain. And now, I’m sitting here with my second brew of the day, feeling sorry for myself. I’m having a moment. I’m walling in a pity party at not being able to go out. A child sulking. It’s the perfect day to go for a walk around the gardens. The sun’s out in a clear blue sky, there’s a cool breeze, and there’s no humidity. I mean what more could I ask for? Bah, humbug … stupid muscle … mutter, mutter, mumble, mumble …