annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Good
I want to go to bed before 12, before 11.30 if I can so I'm going to be quick. And list.
- The biggest thing is that SIL today pointed out that a chest infection killed my brother who had MND (also known as ALS, I think) because he couldn't cough. Elder Daughter, with late stage MS and endless chest infections, can cough. Not under her own control, but when the mucus gets to a certain point she coughs like a baby does, full power, uninhibited, mouth open, no hands covering it up, snot coming out of both nostrils and mouth. Which is gross but life-saving. I can let the panic subside. I have let the panic subside.
- We ordered a whole load of bedroom furniture for her room from Ikea today and the bastards are going to deliver it on Friday, ffs. That's a bit more speedy than I can handle, so I'm stepping right out. I haven't done much, to be fair, just pushed other people into doing it. M the key worker, who helped me choose and Bloke to put the order in. He's going to assemble it as well, over the weekend. I shall inspect it on Monday and maybe do a late night Ikea run to pick up some bits and pieces. I like a late night Ikea run - they're open till midnight and the roads are quiet then.
- Still painting rooftops, still with a restricted palette, this time a small dab of pale blue, yellow and pale green. I sold it within an hour of posting it on Facebook, so I shall do another just like it as I'm meant to be accumulating some work for the Open House in May, submission deadline 1/3/19 - or next Friday. I'll try and get the viaduct arches more level - it's not even there really but I like it so I put it there.
- The daughter's father's drunken wife turning up at the care home reminded me that she'd turned up pissed at the hospice and I looked back at what I wrote then. It was powerful stuff so I cut and pasted it, discovered it came in at 11,789 words and remembered there's a competition my writing mentor keeps on at me to enter, so I'm going to. I've got it down to just under 10,000 words, to fit the rules, but it still needs tweaking. The thing about blogging day after day is you don't know how it will end and I obviously thought ED was going to die - it's all in that present tense - ach, I'm treating it as writing and it's helping me. There's a great podcast called The Griefcast, where a comedian whose father died when she was a child talks to other comedians about their losses and griefs. It sounds ghastly but it's so soothing. Today I listened to Episode 8, with David Baddiel, who made me feel OK about potentially profiting from traumatic family events - we're artists, darling, it's how we rock.
- Walking on the beach - fuck it's already 11.34, I'm going to go - I MUST SLEEP MORE.
Today I am grateful for: my pal J who is going to read the hospice thing to make sure it hangs together enough, before I get down to nitty-gritty tweaking - the deadline is Sunday; my writing mentor for having so much faith in me; living by the sea; my sister-in-law and seeing her more often now; having all these words written, to plunder
Night night, sleep tight, see you tomorrow xxx
11:43 p.m. - 20.02.19
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