Post 216: A Busy Day and happy tears.
Getting up for counselling isn’t a chore, and after Mr Vicious was fed, he was informed that his dinner might be late tonight due to the CT Scan.
He replied — quite reasonably — that it was fin...
Post 215: A Letter That Suggests Honesty Soon
I’ve been frustrated lately — properly frustrated — and all it’s got me is closer to chasing my own tail like a confused dog. Running in circles, watched, fed, watered… but...
Post 214: Twenty Minutes of Hell.
All day today, from the frosty white morning to the cold breeze of dusk, I stayed in bed. I didn’t go downstairs once. I only went to the loo — which is in the next room.
The foreman told me to rest aft...
Post 213: Home, work and uncertainty.
Although the green wheelie bin is jammed full of hawthorn and bramble with a sprinkling of wild garlic — which sounds more like a gastronomic delight from Clarkson’s new venture than a heap of garden...
Post 212: Spring bulbs and clever stockings.
Reviewing the patient status right now, I’d say things are medium bad, but there are glimmers of hope.
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After two days where my emotions stayed firmly in their cubby hole, tod...
