"It'll be fine in a second," I thought, as I hobbled to a nearby bench, but it wasn't. In fact it was painful and I had to hobble back home at greatly reduced speed.
"You should have rung me and I would have come to get you," said Keith, when he arrived home later.
"But you had already gone out by then," I said, visions of an ex-ambulance trundling across a wide expanse of grass, having skilfully negotiated the lake and the ducks.
"Well, I could have come in the Pajero, off-roading," he replied. I think he would have enjoyed that.
Anyway, I have spent the rest of the day trying ice packs, strapping it up, hobbling and generally trying in vain to reduce the golf ball that is now the outer side of my ankle, but what better excuse not to do the housework that I had planned for today?