This is Ian’s wife Tessa speaking. When we got back from dinner tonight, he was so ashen-faced and sickly-looking that I told him to go to bed. En route, he ran into the butcher’s block and knocked over an entire rack of knives – in other words, he’s out of it, and needs to sleep. He said he needed to write a blog, and I told him I’d write a note to get him out of it.
He can come back out to play tomorrow.
before a skating competition last week