(Bleugh!)
Sometimes it does not rain, but it pours.
My mum remains in hospital, happily secured from the conditions that took her there, but now seriously underweight and weak, oh and she has covid (she’s also 86 and tiny).
Meanwhile at work, several colleagues must face their own family trauma or illness, while others are on holiday.
I picked a poor time to get covid again. My previous experience was fairly inconsequential, and my over arching concern was to avoid passing it along. This time, I find that I am frequently inspecting my lungs externally, especialy during (attempted) sleeping hours.
There is of course, no question, of hospital visiting, thus throwing the burden onto lovely Chris, with whom I must once again play, “no I’m in this room – don’t use that towel”.
My preparations for August again get pushed a bit further down the line, with the stark realisation that there is not that much line left, and of course, zero opportunity for time off.
Never mind, I’m on nightshift next, I don’t really sleep then anyway.
Lest this be seen as all doom and gloom; the most recent roof re-repairs “appear” (crosses fingers) to be doing the job and the house is watertight (touch wood).
Son one returned safely from Lille – “the food was… meh!” (I apologise for my poor job as a parent to lovers of French cuisine everywhere).
Son two (our far eastern correspondent) returns in about a month, having just shared video of his “goodbye and thank you speech” impressively delivered in fluent Japanese (with jokes).
Mum is not in immediate peril and is surely in the best place for her care.
Based on my track record, there’ll be something else to complain about next week.
Seemingly, the sun is shining…
Next week on IaDL : What now…?
Dalmallyfest the Asylum 