Last weekend, the weather was stunning - beautiful sunshine but not too hot, We were lucky enough to get away and stay in a quaint country cottage with a perfect garden which was not overlooked by anyone apart from the swallows and swifts flying overhead. Each morning, we would get out of bed and wake up in the garden with our first cuppa of the day.
Sunday morning was exactly this. As the cuppa came to an end, I popped into the house to put the croissants (we were on holiday so why not) in the oven. I took my croissant bolus as they would be ready in 4 minutes and stepped outside pulling the door too to keep the flies out of the cottage.
Unfortunately, the latch was not on. The door closed. And locked.
There we were in the garden, in our PJs. The croissants had 2 minutes to go and all the windows were closed.
Fear not, I had my mobile phone and the phone number of the cottage owner. Unfortunately, we had no mobile signal. Not a problem, I still had access to the cottage wifi. But wifi calling was having a break for the long weekend. My partner remembered I had Skype on my tablet (which was also in the garden). Alas, I had removed it and the cottage wifi was too s-l-o-w to install it again.
The owner of the cottage lived in "Brook cottage just down the lane." So I set off (in my PJs) down one of the three lanes (we were on a Y-junction) in my flip-flops finding no such cottage. I found a B&B so I knocked on the door to ask directions - in my PJs and flip flops. No luck there. There was no answer. So I headed back to the cottage to try another of the lanes knowing the croissants were in the oven (and definitely over cooked) and I had insulin on board.
As I passed the cottage, my partner called me. He had found an unlocked window. It was high but it was unlocked. He had managed to balance, on tip toes, on top of a garden table and raise the lower sash. But it was too high to climb in.
The garden contained a selection of tables. Unfortunately, there was no combination of table piling which would get us high enough yet stable enough to climb in. And the window opening was small.
Meanwhile, the croissants were in the oven and we were concerned about causing a fire. And I had insulin on board.
As my partner was considering smashing a pane of glass in the door. I put my climbing skills to the test. Perched on top of the picnic bench, I could raise one foot on to the key safe and the other wedged me in against the door frame. I could reach the window. I could get my shoulders through the window. It was tight. And I was wearing PJs. And no shoes (you can't climb in flip flops). With an extra push from my partner standing behind me on the bench, I found another foothold in the cottage stone work and I finally managed to pull (squeeze) myself into the upstairs bedroom.
The croissants were toast.
But the stress of the occasion had helped keep my BG steady despite the bolus on board.
At the start tempers were frayed but by the end we were relieved we made it into the cottage without any damage (apart from a very dirty PJ top - the window sill was not clean) and had a good story to tell.
Sunday morning was exactly this. As the cuppa came to an end, I popped into the house to put the croissants (we were on holiday so why not) in the oven. I took my croissant bolus as they would be ready in 4 minutes and stepped outside pulling the door too to keep the flies out of the cottage.
Unfortunately, the latch was not on. The door closed. And locked.
There we were in the garden, in our PJs. The croissants had 2 minutes to go and all the windows were closed.
Fear not, I had my mobile phone and the phone number of the cottage owner. Unfortunately, we had no mobile signal. Not a problem, I still had access to the cottage wifi. But wifi calling was having a break for the long weekend. My partner remembered I had Skype on my tablet (which was also in the garden). Alas, I had removed it and the cottage wifi was too s-l-o-w to install it again.
The owner of the cottage lived in "Brook cottage just down the lane." So I set off (in my PJs) down one of the three lanes (we were on a Y-junction) in my flip-flops finding no such cottage. I found a B&B so I knocked on the door to ask directions - in my PJs and flip flops. No luck there. There was no answer. So I headed back to the cottage to try another of the lanes knowing the croissants were in the oven (and definitely over cooked) and I had insulin on board.
As I passed the cottage, my partner called me. He had found an unlocked window. It was high but it was unlocked. He had managed to balance, on tip toes, on top of a garden table and raise the lower sash. But it was too high to climb in.
The garden contained a selection of tables. Unfortunately, there was no combination of table piling which would get us high enough yet stable enough to climb in. And the window opening was small.
Meanwhile, the croissants were in the oven and we were concerned about causing a fire. And I had insulin on board.
As my partner was considering smashing a pane of glass in the door. I put my climbing skills to the test. Perched on top of the picnic bench, I could raise one foot on to the key safe and the other wedged me in against the door frame. I could reach the window. I could get my shoulders through the window. It was tight. And I was wearing PJs. And no shoes (you can't climb in flip flops). With an extra push from my partner standing behind me on the bench, I found another foothold in the cottage stone work and I finally managed to pull (squeeze) myself into the upstairs bedroom.
The croissants were toast.
But the stress of the occasion had helped keep my BG steady despite the bolus on board.
At the start tempers were frayed but by the end we were relieved we made it into the cottage without any damage (apart from a very dirty PJ top - the window sill was not clean) and had a good story to tell.
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