It’s going on midday and the bucket of coffee is out.
I want no noise and no movement for a while and the dogs sense that,
My night shifts were challenging but kept sane by an experienced support worker called Tracy who knows her stuff. Bluebell’s gear stick broke loose again as I left the Hospice and I had to drive home in third gear and in need of stopping for dog and cat food.
Well I just about managed it, ( Looking rather like like Mr Magoo) and called the RAC out to fix the problem and the chirpy Terry turned up again with lots of stories about his family and how he worked in Japan as a young man .
He exhausted me , but I felt in good hands as he said I was one of the “ Good uns “
Apparently he could tell a Good un” from 50 feet.
I didn’t ask how
Terry indeed proved to be a good un himself, for, half an hour later when I called him back after locking myself out of Bluebell when down at the shops in Dyserth, he turned up again with is gizmo to sort it as cheerful and as happy as a chattering otter.
Subsequently I had no daytime sleep yesterday , so flagged and went to bed early. I was never going to watch the Harry interview anyway. I slept heavy and woke late with back ache, so missed Albert leaving a vomit pile on the landing which I stood in, in bare feet.
After that, everything else is a blur what with a trip to the bank( no parking) dog walk, and only an hour’s break before I promised to take a neighbour for a hospital appointment .
Hence the quiet time now with my coffee.
The cold sick is still sitting on the landing with my footprint inside it ……
I will get there later, I promise
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/OKd2a5M
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