annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Love and anger and stuff
Here's another pic of Sarah/Stepfie and me, for strawberrri on d'land and for all of us who miss her so much. This one was taken at my place just after she'd been diagnosed for the first time, when she came up to do a big artwork about it all. She was scared - she knew it wouldn't end well right back then and was pissed off at no one giving her room to express and explore her fears. I really hate it now when people tell those with cancer or other potentially terminal illnesses that they can do it because they're strong. Fuck off, you fucking cunts. No one had a greater strength or will to live than Sarah but it's a disease not a tug of war and I really resent the implication that she'd still be here if only she'd tried just a little bit harder. When I think of her daughters it breaks my (stone cold) heart
So. Today I mainly did things for and with my girl. No word from the police, of course. When they say they'll get back to you within 24 hours, they mean this week, probably. So I was anxious about that then thought fuck it and went to the care home and out into the wind, to Marks and fucking Sparks where I bought her some of those really soft bedsocks that go quite nasty when washed, but hey, she's got a bit of dosh so let's have some soft socks. And Russian fake fur hats, one each.
We both have leopard print fleecy scarves (made from leftovers), so we can look cool together this winter. Then up the pier again, as where else is there?
When we got back to the care home the reflexologist was there, so I booked her to give Daughter a treatment once a week - nice having your feet held and stroked and massaged, at the very least. Then we arranged some outings - she's going to see Hamlet with that Benjy Cumberland next week, but I'm not going. I refused - I have seen Hamlet more times than is humanly bearable for one woman in one lifetime and I find him unwatchable, so she's going with M, her key-worker, who may not be pleased, but Daughter will enjoy it. She loves words and language, even when it drifts past leaving no meaning - I see this in her face when I read poetry like Eliot - wonder at the beautiful phrases.. Then we're going to The Motown Story - I didn't dare look to see who's in that but it might be a good night out. One of the care workers wants to take her to some show called something like Big Mama's Christmas Night out, which sounds well dodge, but Daughter grinned at the thought of it, so it's on.
And I stayed up too late listening to this podcast with Richard Osman, who describes himself on twitter as "You know, that guy from that thing" and is worth an hour of anybody's time.
https://www.madeofhumanpodcast.com/episodes/2017/10/31/63-richard-osman-were-maniacs-all-of-us
Goodnight, sweet peeps. We made it through another day. Let's all try again tomorrow. xxx
12:55 a.m. - 01.11.17
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