A much better night was had – thank goodness.
Tuesday is Art Day but I made up a pack of scarlet lies because I did not want to go. It was not a practical session, it was to mount work for the termly exhibition at the end of April. I’m not particularly pleased with anything I have produced. I don’t particularly want to go the exhibition and since I’m not going next term, I’m not sure how I will get the work back. Just to add it to the stack of unwanted crap I’ve produced over three courses!
And as a teacher, I’ve mounted for England in the past.
I was in no hurry to get up. Part of my disinclination to go to Art, related to oversleeping after an achey day yesterday, and I would have had to rush to get H walked before leaving. And rushing was not going to do it for me this morning.
So I did not get up and I did not go.
But I shifted myself in a hurry to ring Barclays when I suspected I had been scammed. A phone call with ‘virtual robot’ voice was asking me about two international transfers on my account. And to press 1 if nothing to do with me. Which I did. Then panic seized me and the nice Barclays man checked everything and it seems someone else might be the victim. Not me anyway. I wonder how many people the robot chatted to at once.
H and I went out later to Pangbourne to paddle in the poodles. It was very marshy and the river was very high and in a hurry to get to London. But it was a sunny, warm afternoon. The contrails in the sky made me wonder where the planes were going. It was 3 years ago that our world fell silent and there were no contrails and no one went anywhere.
And the cormorant kept an eye on us all below.
21C! No wonder I felt warm.
Must have been far worse a day or two ago. H had a good paddle.
A new tree for the cormorant.
Strangely the poodles were worse near the car park and drier areas were right by the river. H was far too interested in a wayward pair of meaty looking geese. I watched them as they were hijacked by the current and dragged towards Reading. I vaguely wondered how they planned to get back upstream. But the ‘wonder’ bit was cancelled by their skill at tucking into a bank where the water was calmer, enabling them to negotiate their way back upstream to taunt Heidi.
She had paddled into a shallow, calm area, but the river was not safe, so I deemed it wise to remove her from goosey danger and we returned to the car.
Next up – gathering T’s medication from the surgery. They had actually managed to acquire some Memantine.
Driving through Goring, I noticed the river had now breached its banks and was spilling out over the Thames path where we had walked on Sunday.
This is where the path is now under water.
I came home and made a pile of sandwiches for a late lunch. T was still in bed and did not get out of it until the evening. But he ate his sandwiches. I retired at about 21.30, falling into a deep sleep to be awoken at midnight.
T was in hyperactive mode, attacking the kitchen with gusto making a noisy racket. I couldn’t ignore it any longer so went to investigate the chaos. I could hear the taps were full on, crockery was being crashed around, items were being dragged across the floor. Etc
The sink area had received another shower, which must have been a bad one, because even he had noticed puddles on the floor and had covered them with kitchen roll. Using a mop had not entered his head. The table had been moved. The cardboard boxes waiting to go to recycling were being explored. I expect those card inner shoe supports are out of the bin again. I don’t know how many times he has pulled them out of it for me to put them back again.
This is madness. Chaos with a vengeance. I am not looking forward to this weekend. After tomorrow, there will be no respite for a week. It is going to be unbearable. It is, in fact, one reason it is helpful for us to go away. By going away, it distracts him, limits the damage to the contents of his one wheelie bag and a few hotel towels.
Yesterday evening, during a beer hunt, Fleur and Alex emerged from his study where they rescued three large, sharp kitchen knives and a sturdy pair of kitchen scissors. No wonder I can never find anything.
They say grandchildren are a blessing because, unlike your own children, they can be returned to their parents. Well I would like to return a grandparent. I want to return T on the grounds he is damaged goods and I would like a refund. Or alternatively, I would like to return him under guarantee. A functioning replacement would be good.
I was still awake after half past midnight thanks to the kitchen Armageddon. I chose not to investigate closely because I don’t think you can have a second Armageddon and any interference would have been explosive.
Looking back on it makes me almost think I have to laugh. Life’s rich pattern etc.
Thought for the Day
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