I slept well. Our teenage neighbours’ partying did not disturb us at all. We could hear voices and laughter but it was not remotely disruptive – hang onto that fact. I may have woken around midnight as some youngsters were being picked up by their parents but they left very quietly.
I was awake quite early and got the usual cuppas and performed the usual flexing and then drifted off to sleep again. And I had not stopped my workout. Tut tut.
Extreme laziness allowed me to lie around and reach the end of Aussie Traitors, along with all its twists and turns. Highly recommended.
The morning was punctuated by sudden and very heavy showers. Not at all the sort of day to be out walkies especially after our soaking yesterday. H was not at all keen and had a long wait before we finally made it out for a walk.
It has also been really really blustery and cool. Unlike parts of Europe which seem to be cooking.
Burt managed to annoy me by disturbing us around 08.30 to make a big song and dance about clearing up mess of bottles and glass and ‘all sorts’ from our alleyway which was used by the party goers yesterday. His disapproval was bursting out of every seam. I don’t know why he was in the alley way, as far as I am aware he has no right of way there. And he was just playing the party martyr clearing up because Tracey and Andy and family would have cleared it up- it was their mess- and they walk their dogs round there every day, and would not put them at risk. As Burt proudly told me he had dumped their rubbish by their cars, I could feel my hackles rising because I did not want Tracey and Andy to think we had put it there and were trying to make a point. Mind your own business Burt.
I amused myself watching the Wimbledon Ladies Final. Wimbledon has not really interested me over recent years but I like Ons Jabeur and wanted her to win, but she did not. I was quite sad about that, but she was even sadder.
T was in one of his surly moods and shit himself away in his study for a long stretch of time. The doctor reminded me that one of the reasons he might not eat when I want him to is because his memory issues cause confusion as to whether he is hungry or not or has just eaten. Or has not eaten.
He also gets very confused about the time of day. Despite having a special dementia clock. He will be 77 years old in two days time.
I persuaded him out late in the afternoon, which he thought was late morning. We got blown towards the river at Pangbourne and then relocated to the B and W where we had a very enjoyable drink by a choppy river. T did not believe me when I said it was the Thames.
We had eaten the remains of Ali’s lasagne earlier in the day, so could not even muster enough appetite to eat a snack at the B and W.
So we returned home where I have discovered T has notde cluttered the fridge, he has merely placed things side by side that really should not be.
His bedside table could do with a declutter since it is supporting the equivalent of the Eiffel Tower constructed from paper towels, and an interesting construction from green cola cans.
Thought for the Day
This is a child’s book on dementia and provides interesting reading.
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