Thursday 23rd July 2020

Jen's Mum, Betty, is 101 next birthday, which makes her, currently, 100 years old.

She is about four and a half feet tall, lives off cold tea and peppermints. About three years ago she decided that the front and back dorrsteps were too high to step over, and has not left the house since.

She spends most of the day sitting in her armchair, watching TV with the sound at full volume as she doesn't like hearing aids.

Last week she fell ill. She was seeing people walking on the ceiling, stealing her teeth. And so on. So, Jen called the doctor (they don't do housecalls unless in an emergency) and he prescribed antibiotics for a urinary infection, as that's what it sounded like.

Bet slept all through the weekend, including the four hours we were at Jen's, the TV was switched off and silent whilst we played cards and made merry.

So, on Wednesday Bet was getting worse, and so, naturally, Jen became worried. On Thursday, Bet could not swallow, so Jen called the doctor who sent two nurses to assess Bet. Whilst they were with Bet, she vomited, vomited a black sludge, which wasn't a good sign. An ambulance was called for so Bet went to William Harvey for assessment.

Jen was stunned by these turn of events, though I suppose, in general, not surprised, if that makes sense. Jools invited Jen for dinner, until I pointed out we didn't have enough stuff out, but on second thoughts, I said if we got some of the frozen ragu out, I could make bread.

Which is why and how Jen came to be at ours for dinner.

Before that; the rest of the day.

It was to be a dull and breezy day, and I really needed to sort out the lawnmeadow.

For the best part of eleven months, it requires little or no work, but at the end of July, beginning of August, it needs to be harvested, raked, scarified and so on. With my gammy arm and general lack of enthusiasm meant I was reluctant to say the least.

I kept putting off the day and then the start time of the work, but at nine, I had run out of excuses.

Let's get to work.

So, we gather the hay we had prepared last week, then scarified the whole of the grassed area.

Then mowed. And finally raked it all, gathering the hay again. Five bags of dried grass and moss later, the lawn is about 40% bare soil, perfect for being seeded.

If needed.

That took two hours, and we were hot and achy. Especially my arm.

We have lunch, and then settle down to watch Billy Connolly's World Tour of New Zealand, looking for tips for places to visit when we go next year.

When not if.

The afternoon passes.

Jen calls with the news about Bet and the day changes, Jen arriving at half five for dinner. We eat and talk until eight.

And that was it for the day, really. The hospital did call, they think Bet has an hiatus hernia, so can be treated, but needs tests.

Jen leaves, and we are aone again, sitting in the gathering gloom of a July evening, listening to the radio, now that football has just about finished for the season.