It started grey and wet and it carried on like that all day. Relentlessly. Even T commented on how foul it was outside.
I slept better than the day before as my night was dream free and my dominant stuffy nostril was eased by Sudafed spray instead of some hallucinogenic rubbish. Lucy in the Sky would have been proud of me.
I was awake and up quite early. My art classes restarted this morning.
I dragged H out in the rain and through the puddles to the Rec. We went far enough for her to do her doings and then turned around.
My new bright blue Birkis have a better grip in the mud, than my croc sliders. Slide being the operative word. If David Hockney can wear bright yellow crocs, I can surely get away with bright blue Birkenstocks. They feel indestructible. And slip on.
I wrote up the whiteboard for T so he knew where I was. I haven’t used this for months which must signify that I haven’t been able to escape to sanity that often.
Art – well it was as though I had never been away. One or two familiar faces, apart from, Helen, the tutor and admin Marguerite, and a chilly, old Abbey building. There was extensive flooding to admire on the drive to Abingdon. Particularly at Culham where the Thames had burst its banks over the fields where we have sometimes walked H.
It brought to mind Goring where the Thames path is underwater in places.
Art was not exactly enthralling today – line drawing. It was quite a challenge to which I failed to rise. But it was nice to be back. There is talk of drawing a merperson next week. Apparently mermaid is no longer pc.
We had to take a pencil for an interesting walk from one dot to another without lifting our pencil off the paper. This below is not my walk/work.
I returned home to find T in bed. In fact he has not got up all day. Again. But I did cook lunch for him. And I can’t see any left overs so he must have eaten it. For a change.
During the remainder of the afternoon, I caught up with Silent Witness, but then lost track again due to excessive twists and turns of the plot. It was all so simple once. Too many characters looked the same as each other. Then I may have taken a little time out.
The day produced little else of interest. Looking out of the window was enough to make me feel ill. Just constant grey and constant rain. Utterly depressing.
It got to 21.00 and both of us developed a second wind. Most unusual. T got quite lively.
By 22.30, I was hungry again and felt the need for a prawn sandwich. This involved careful defrosting of prawns then making a chilli mayo dressing. And it all got stuffed between two slices of bread, along with some crispy lettuce. Yummy.
Or it was. Until I dropped the sandwiches on the floor. The prawns developed a life of their own, exiting the slices of bread and crawling to the most inaccessible places on the floor. Swiftly followed by the mayonnaise which was magnetically attracted to the prawns but flowed far and wide.
Well that took some clearing up. I was left with the choice of washing the prawns and making new mayo (they had taken on an additional ingredient – dog hair) or eating them or chucking them. So I fed them to T. The least hairy ones. And H got a few. The most hairy ones.
Having spent 24 hours in A and E with C4, we ended up advising snooker players on BBC2. Or T did. He now devotes himself to commentary on whatever is on TV. Only problem – he can’t see half of what he watches and he can no longer read well enough to follow subtitles or news flashes. And he can’t follow plots.
And he keeps telling me what to look at. That is quite difficult at times because he often stands between myself and the screen.
So midnight came and went before the lights went out to the usual mutterances. And homicidal thoughts.
Thought for the Day
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