Sunday 15th November 2015

Saturday

And what with an almighty deluge forecast for just after ten and to last ten hours, there seemed little point in arranging anything other than the usual stuff: shopping, barnet mangle, listen to the radio.

We lay in bed listening to the silence. Well, it would quiet if there were not a purring, dribbling black cat on our chests, hoping that he might get us to get up and feed his nibs. We give in, of course, and once checking the living room floor for dead or partial rodents, the coast is clear to enter the kitchen. All three cats appear from nowhere, so once they have been fed, we get on to our addiction: coffee and then go to Sainsbury's.

I am followed all the way down the Deal Road by a dick in a van who sits about two inches from my back bumper all the way into town. I turn up, and knowing he will try to take one of the other narrow streets to the road along the prom, I speed up and indeed, we reach the junction at the same time, but he has to give way. Jools waves at Mr Dick. We turn towards the shop, and he carried on towards Dickland, where he lives with all the other dicks.

We shop until we fill up the torolley, then load the car and rish to get home before any more dicks are seen.

I need a haircut, so while I go for some abuse and a mangle, I drop Jools off so she can have a wander down the prom, prom, prom. Only, Alan, chief scarcastic bastard barber has retired to a life of constant golf and collecting rent from those who now use the chairs in his shop. It has been thus for some months, and I suppose it has been three months since I was last there, so, I suppose its about right. A young lady cuts my hair, I get no jip, and my hair looks fine.

I drive down to the prom and collect Jools who has had an hour. We drive back home to listen to some radio, but a music station with as little news as possible. Huey takes the blues away, and the morning passes just fine.

Now, it has been some weeks, nay months, since I last went to see Nan. If I am honest, I believe it was round about my birthday, some ten weeks ago. I have been saying for weeks I would go, but as ever once the day came, I tried to make excuses. Not because I don't want to see her, but what can you say to someone laying on a bed for 24 hours a day, too blind to watch TV, too deaf to listen to the radio. Just waiting for the end of one day and the beginning of the next? It might be fair to say that some if this she could make better, she could allow the nurses to take her to the rec room, for bingo and music and company. But she chooses not to. She could put her hearing aid in, but does not like them, so an hour with her is like being in an echo chamber.

On the way back, we go to visit our friends Gary and Julie, have coffee and chats. But the day is slipping away, we have a Mexican banquet to prepare, and the night is young! More truth is that I have bought prepared Mexican food, looks good enough, and smells fine when cooked, but all is stuck to the containers, so burritos and all are in a mush on the plate. But it all tastes the same I suppose.

I avoid Dr. Who, but it sounds madder than ever. And with that, the day is done, just Mr Fry in QI and then it is bed.