Not such a good Friday!

One sprained wrist, grazed hands, shins and knees and I am proper feeling sorry for myself.

This is the face Hubster came home too. Is it looking sorry enough for itself? On his return, I dissolved into a blub of snot and salty tears, they had been brewing, but a comforting cuddle spilled them over.

Still there is more of the Good Friday yet to enjoy and I will do my very best at that. "Come on, bag up your tears, its only a scratch" Dad would say!

Bagging them up Dad, Bagging them up for you xxx