Despite enjoying a naughty, but nice, daytime sleep yesterday, I still dozed on the sofa to find myself awake mid-Tourist, but goodness knows which episode, or what had preceded it.
I was easily asleep back in bed, for a while, until the usual 03.30. And the night was frittered on after a cup of coffee and more dozing.
The day was not particularly inviting, but it was dry, but I found my tummy was playing up all over again, involving a few urgent visits to the loo.
Things gradually settled down again as the morning went by, but not enough for me to risk walking H.
Instead, I had a long FaceTime with Anne, who informed us that the funeral link was available. She is having a tricky time in NZ and is feeling slightly redundant because Ken is doing a good job looking after Mary who also has a constant stream of visitors.
So Anne and Margaret are feeling a bit like spare parts, which presents Anne with a quandary, as to whether she should return to the UK. But, if she does, things will probably change, and she knows there is no happy ending. In the meantime, Mary is designing her departure from this Earth, but is finding it difficult to deal with. And there are consequences for those close to her.
It must be SO difficult for all concerned.
I then watched T’s funeral – the girls spoke well, Frankie’s writing was very moving, read by Trudi, the photos and music were the most harrowing for me. All the good times … with a raffish, wicked husband. Trudi was fantastic.
That overwhelmed me, so I resumed the sleep I had missed after 03.30.
Next up, a walk for H – only a short one, round Streatley Rec because we were heading for coffee at the Illis.
The boys were out watching a rugby match at Bath. How T would have enjoyed that.
And I decided I had better maintain family traditions by watching Liverpool play Arsenal in the FA Cup. For some reason they are playing in purple and Arsenal in white. Couldn’t one of the teams have sported their traditional red? The best team won!
Supper followed and the Great Pottery Throw Down. This year the standard is very high, although the person with a degree in ceramics has probably an unfair advantage.
Thought for the Day
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