What a waste

Today is our fifth wedding anniversary. It's horrible weather, but we're headed out for dinner in a country pub with gorgeous food - our default Lovely Food location. It's about CD13 and my body is saying "go for it now". However there will be almost no drinking and no nookie, because a) I haven't sorted anything out about seeing the GP and b) much more importantly, Mr. Spouse has cracked a bone in his elbow.

He was riding my bike (yes, he is taller than me, and not very good on a bike, why do you ask?) and fell off onto his arm. In mitigation, he was riding it back from the bike shop where it had been serviced. This was on Monday but nothing looked better by yesterday so we had a record quick trip to A&E (makes a change for me to be driving him there) and a rapid X-ray, and an appointment at the fracture clinic today. It will probably take 4-6 weeks to heal and no driving (so I'll be driving), not much typing, no leaning on ones arms during sex, and sadly (given the state of the house) not much cleaning or tidying too. And painkillers (so not much drinking for him, either) Gah. I'm trying to throw myself back into work so feel extremely disinclined to run round evenings and weekends like a mad thing putting away stuff from our travels or getting out stuff from the loft.

I don't feel as disappointed as I might, especially having looked back at my three previous wedding anniversary posts (ignored, just had miscarriage, and 5w pregnant but miscarried obviously, respectively) and thinking that now I feel much calmer and more on track, and that perhaps being pregnant is not very good for me. Or at least, knowing I cannot possibly be pregnant is better for me than wondering if I could be and if there is any way to keep me that way.

In other news, after a bit of phone tag and a broken phone line (theirs) we are seeing the adoption agency on the 15th. I am not quite sure what they think the next step would be as when I asked if I should bring our documents for the CRB they said "ooh, not just yet" and finally admitted that it might be easier if we brought them in and they then verified they'd seen them and photocopied them. Apart from "go away and think about it for a while" I'm not sure what can come between "initial chat" and "check you aren't a criminal" in this process.

With that, I will leave you with something I'm sure you're dying for, but which I've somehow managed to omit thus far.

The church (also where we had the reception - the tables are behind the white drapes. A mile of fabric is a lot cheaper, and less allergenic, than flowers when you are decorating what has been called the Cathedral of Non-Conformism, which seats 1000):

And that's me just got out of the taxi outside the church (plus my best woman, and fellow infertile/miscarrier's left leg). That is a pawn shop in the background, in case you are curious.