Sunday, December 10

A friend has broken his leg as badly as I can imagine in the ice and snow. He fell over outside his apartment when he trod on a sheet of ice cunningly hidden under a thin blanket of snow. His leg bent the wrong way and his knee-cap came flying off, taking the attached muscles and tendons with it.

We went to visit him to discover that powerful drugs and a positive life philosophy had kept him jolly in a wry way.

We took books and chatted.

The hospital had originally housed war veterans and has the mounted gun on a hill at the entrance to prove it.