Saturday and I get up to a lazy marmalade toast breakfast. Last nights sleep was grim, I kept waking up extremely hot and restless. So as a result I potter the morning away trying to get myself started. In the end I decide that what is required is a hot bath and take myself off to wallow for ages. My partner brings me a bacon sandwich lunch as I lay and get wrinkled. Of course eventually I start to get cold so get myself dry and dressed in time to watch Leicester Tigers beat Saracens to win the Premier Rugby Championship. A great game and a last minute drop goal the difference. As the day goes by I exchange messages with friends some of whom are taking part in Pride. Dinner comes and goes and I take the opportunity to feed the hedgehog before settling down to a film: The Ghost Writer. Time to draft the blog. So that’s been my day but underneath it all is my not feeling that well and knowing that tomorrow I need to start taking paracetamol to counter the effects of my Monday jab. Its that time in my meds cycle so I am apprehensive about how I am going to be this coming week. Tomorrow is Fathers Day, I know I have cards. I like the acknowledgement of my part in bring in new life into being. Ideally I like to think I was there in the raising of my children but the reality is that I wasn’t for large parts. So I think all those fathers that were deserve recognition of that.