Tuesday 7th November 2017

I am supposed to be in Denmark next week for meetings. I am in a bit of quandary as to what to do, what with Mother lying in hospital, should I go, but then what happens if she takes a turn for the worse? The call I had with the hospital on Monday had been more positive, it all seems up and down on a daily basis, but even with what happened over the weekend there is an upward direction for Mum, because even if she doesn't see it, with each day that passes, she is a day nearer leaving. Now whether that means her going home or into a home is another matter, but now I have sowed the thought in Mum's head, she will ponder in the event of her not being able to live in her house, would she want to stay in Suffolk, or move to Kent to be closer to us?

The choice will be hers, as we have all done so much to sort out her life, and as I said yesterday, most of us don't get a word of thanks, just directions to do more.

We shall see.

It is November I need to remind you, because it has been warm enough to be September, at least during the day. Warm enough to walk with just a t shirt on, or maybe sit in the garden, as long as you are in the sunshine. But when the sun is covered with cloud, it gets chilly mighty quickly. And in the morning, sunrise is now seven, meaning at six is is still dark, and getting dark again by four in the afternoon, and night by half five.

So, with Jools getting up at half five so she can be out of the house by half six, I lay in bed until six, then when she has made her snap and fed the cats, I know the coffee will be soon brewing, so I can put on my dressing gown and go downstairs.

We make small talk, and I say I am going to make scones for dinner. Which seems to go down well. I did feel bad about spending twenty five bucks on huckleberry jam, but then I knew it went great with scones and clotted cream, with the small jar of triple berry already gone, there is just the pound jar or regular left, and I am thinking about where I can get resupplies from. Anyway, scone making is for later in the day.

Jools leaves and I put the radio on to liven the place up, and decide to have sprinkles for breakfast, as I got a couple of packs in the food parcel of Dutch food last week. What are sprinkles? Well, hundreds and thousands as we call them in Blighty, or vermicelli as you might know it. Chocolate flavoured hundreds and thousands in a sandwich. Usually better in a freshly baked roll, but I don't have those. But sliced bread, thick layer of butter and a generous shake or two of sprinkles. And I am in Holland again. Lovely.

Work begins, and again I am struggling with enthusiasm, but turning the main computer helps. I feel like I am swimming in treacle, but sure I'll get over it. One day.

There is lunch, which is warmed through chorizo hash, and oh look, the box of wine, best have a glass as hash is too wet without wine. It is eleven in the morning and already I'm on the wine. What does that say?

But just the one glass, and I do work in the afternoon, getting stuff done until my mind is fried by half two, so I join Scully on the sofa to read and clear my head. Yes, Scully on the sofa. In Molly's place. Which was co opted by Mulder, and now Scully is there, and she will defend her place on Jools' fleece. The cats play budge on a daily basis, taking each others' spaces for sleeping, but that Scully is now doing it shows how emboldened she has become.

At four I make scones. Mix the flour and butter together, add the sugar and salt, a splash of milk, and make into a thin dough, cut the scones, wash with egg and pop them in the oven. I made them too thin, so they are not perfect, but turns out when cut there is a larger surface area meaning more jam and cream, which works really, really well.

Before the scones we share a shop-bought pizza; garlic shrimp flavour. I mean you can't really ruin pizza, but that worked well. And then came the scones, fully loaded. Wowzers.

Jools is shattered, and goes to bed at eight. I begin watching a documentary on Boris Pasternak and is writing of Dr Zhivago. I stop after 20 minutes, but is fascinating, and I will write about it more in the tomorrow's post. But for now, my eyes droop and I go to bed too.