Collapsing bed

You read it here first… there is a new Covid wave on the way – just in time to bugger up the summer holidays. Having had Omicron provides no immunity, and this is a variant which is more serious than omicron, attacking the lungs as earlier variants did. Poor old Brenda is still quite poorly with bad cough and sore chest. Nausea and headache last Saturday.
Moving on…

My flimsy repairs to the bed probably caused its final collapse. As for me… Slowly, sinking further and further throughout the night, until I was not only subsiding, but sliding towards the floor.

I spent much of the night awake feeling uncomfortable before I took myself to the spare room. By then it was too late and it was nearly 05.00. I felt rather weak and wobbly when I finally arose to take H for a quick, early walk. And as for going to Art…

Outside, it was around 10C, under clear and blue skies, so very pleasant. H did not display a lot of enthusiasm so we went just far enough to allow her to stretch her legs and evacuate the waste from within her.

Back at home, after a limited tidy up, I left for Abingdon where I passed a pleasant 3 hours painting a scene from a porthole, which is meant to be Schinias.

It is the only picture I have painted in which T has ever shown an interest

I returned home, hoping for a snooze after my very disturbed night. As if. All sorts of mischief has taken place here. Mostly under the heading: ‘How to Murder your Wife’s Plants. ‘

I had spent much of the day contemplating the bed problem and not looking forward to the night ahead.

Ikea have the frames still… and even people who will assemble it- for a fee. And disassemble and remove the old one.

The Illis have erected their pool and George has been in it. Fleur has the gift of some of my Bean stew for her tea. And we have been gifted chilli in return.

Another anniversary has popped up – 40 years since the surrender of rhe Argentinians in the Falklands.

As if to confirm their stupidity, Pritti Shitti and her colleagues in government have chartered a huge aeroplane to take 7 or 8 refugees to Rwanda. The transfer and its cost cannot possibly be justified! They just can’t climb down and do the sensible thing! Send them the bill. (Update Weds morning – it didn’t go – not sure why)

I found a few pics of T at Day Care ( he says he does nothing much) which he seems to be enjoying more and more.

At £15.00 per day. What a bargain!

And I have an episode of Sherwood, BBC’s latest highly recommended drama to look forward to when I need to hide from the heat of the day. I now have anti-fly protection. An old cotton sheet. Better than using a heavy fleece!

Thought for the Day

Thanks to the Charity and the people who run the Day Centre.