I arrived at the hospital this morning at 6.30, to avoid the long waiting-time that I’d experienced yesterday. I’d been in relatively little pain, but it still felt like something serious enough to warrant the extra visit.

In total I was there 7 hours, of which 6 1/2 hours were spent sitting like a plum in various positions/areas waiting for specialists to ascertain what had happened. Finally I was told that I’d fractured my tibia and would need a cast.

I must admit I was slightly excited at this: I’ve never had a cast before, and I feel I should experience it once in my life. Initially the doctor said something about pulling my wrist, or finger, or something (I phased out at this point, thinking of the pain), but he came back later to give me the good news that I wouldn’t need the pain-killers, and that I could go directly to another room to have the cast applied.

The most surprising thing about the whole event is that, while my arm does hurt, having a fractured bone isn’t as painful as I’d imagined. Plus, I get some industrial-strength pain-killers for the future.

In writing this blog, I’ve become aware of the two types of entry I post. The first is of events and happenings, which are of no real interest to anyone but the family. Freya’s bowel movements or an evening’s getting drunk with friends are not, unless I am misjudging humanity, impressing anyone (even the avid Big Brother energumen); the second is thoughts, ideas and theories, some more serious than others. These, whilst maybe being of more interest to the populace, are written with the sole purpose of giving Freya an insight into the kind of people we are/were.

Recently, the blog has comprised almost exclusively the former, so I was pleased when, just as I was going to bed last night, I had an idea for an entry that fell firmly in the realms of the theory-category.

Sadly, when I woke up this morning I’d completely forgotten what it was that had occupied my thoughts the previous evening.

So, this entry oppugns my original intention, ending up as just another boring happening in my life.

We have been patiently waiting for several months for the arrival of a certain luxury to our local vegan oasis, Goodstore: white chocolate.

I can remember as a child having a fondness for Milkybar. I don’t believe it was a feeling stronger than invoking an occasional indulgence, though on hearing a vegan substitute was coming to Stockholm my tastebuds were reminded of its distinct, sweet aroma, and I began to want.

Today, after a few months of biding, we bought and tried Venture Food’s organic, Fair Trade premium white bar (it’s not actually called that, which is just as well).

I don’t understand why vegan white chocolate has never before found itself on the market. Whatever the reason, it has been worth the wait. We all think it very, very tasty, and is definitely no ersatz contender to the original Milky Bar.

Jo correctly pointed out that, unlike dark chocolate, this new variety is, despite its sweetness, extremely moreish, and I can imagine us ingurgitating a whole bar in no time. It’s just fortunate I’m not particularly sweet-toothed, or I could otherwise easily become no-toothed.