annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Six

1. One of the things that hurts is seeing updates on Instagram from N, the daughter of a friend of mine. N was ED's first friend, back in 1980 when they were both two and for ten years after that, until the family went back to live in Spain. I always kept in touch with K, the mum, and knew that N had had her ups and downs, some severe, so it's not that I envy her as such, just that seeing her living her life in Madrid, becoming a yoga teacher, walking her dog, looking effortlessly elegant, commenting on her pics in both English and Spanish, I get sharp, stabbing flashes of what ED is missing, of the life she didn't have.


2. She's better today though. I phoned to check and was told they'd coaxed her up and out of bed and she spent the day in the big lounge with all the other residents, visibly enjoying the staff larking about. They'd put eucalyptus oil in the vaporiser and given her her antibiotics and her chest was already much quieter and less rattly. I keeled over. Relief, that kind of thing.


3. Then I got my act together and made this: which is turmeric and ginger shot.  Here's a link to the recipe and benefits: https://nutritionistmeetschef.com/turmeric-ginger-shot/  The recipe doesn't point out that you need to peel the roots before grating them or that you need to strain the liquid before adding the lemon and honey, but apart from that it's delicious, dead easy to make, dirt cheap and full of good stuff.


4. Then I went to see my sister, but not for long because she's a bit tricky. She's moving her horses to a stables five minutes from here so I said maybe I could learn what needs doing so I can do it in emergencies. I'm scared of them to be honest, but maybe I could learn not to be and Sis is best seen little and often so it could work out well. Or not. I took Shirley and after we left we walked along the newly reopened towpath between the river and the airport. It used to be along the riverbank but as part of making better flood defences they've brought it quite a way inland and it's a bit bloody desolate if you ask me, with vast stretches of mudflats on one side and the airport on the other.  We walked our three miles there and back anyway as it was better than being at home.


5. One of the workers at the care home asked me to convert her king size quilt covers to single size as she's changed beds and quilts. I really like her so I said yes, thinking it would be a piece of piss, just sew a straight line and cut off the surplus - how hard can it be? Harder than you'd think when you don't have anywhere big enough to lay it out flat and have fuck all spatial awareness so keep getting confused doing it folded up. There's bloody yards and yards of fabric in a king sized quilt cover. And harder still because she's a smoker and although they were all clean, they came from her home and stank that smell that reminded me of bad things. Nothing I could name and chase away, just an odour of fear and unhappiness. Smells are powerfully evocative, aren't they? Meh. I got them all done, four of them, not very well, but hopefully good enough. Even ironed the seams flat.


6. And now I've done this and it's still not quite midnight and I'm off to bed.

Sleep tight xxx

12:07 a.m. - 17.02.19

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