Post 54: Oh Happy Day.
I’ll keep it short-ish and sweet.
The flushes are still hot, the belly injections are routine, my appetite is huge, and my sweet tooth is threatening to rot what teeth are left—but today was a good day.
I was up early and fed Mr Vicious, who was his usual hungry self, but seemed genuinely pleased to see me. I watered the seedling sunflowers Big Sis gave me last week. I’m still incubating them in the conservatory, even though they probably should be outside with the slugs and snails.
Maybe tomorrow My Darling and I will swing by the garden centre, pick up a grow bag, and set the sunflowers free.
When I suggested we have a day out together, My Darling countered with a better idea: let’s gallivant off to the county town on the bus, grab lunch, and do a spot of shopping. Perfect.
I booked our online tickets, and off we went—the dating duo, as I like to think of us. The Sunday bus was busy enough, but there was plenty of space for us to cuddle up at the back like naughty teenagers—you know what I mean.
The bus dropped us right outside the Café Lounge, and as we stepped inside, the buzz of conversation was deafening. It was packed—never seen it so full. But we found a seat and had a very decent meal. The service was a bit slow (understandabley), but the food? Top nosh.
Outside, a few brave souls were sat in the wind, under siege by the sea-chickens—our not-so-affectionate term for the gulls.
Eagle-eyed and ravenous, they’ll snatch your sandwich the moment you blink. There’s nothing funny about losing your ice cream to a winged thief. We always opt for the safe haven indoors. Alfresco? No, thank you.
Fed and full, we stumbled back out into the windy streets, needing to walk the brunch off. We wandered down the cobbled lanes, past olde shops and even older buildings—chimneys at all angles, roofs like patchwork. Maybe charming to a tourist, but to a local, it’s just how it’s always been.
Nothing changes—and perhaps that’s the charm.
We kept moving, avoiding temptation from the window displays, until we reached the far-off Aldi, in search of provisions. (Other shops are available.)
I’m never quite sure about Aldi and its central aisle of chaos—the so-called “bin ends.” I find them uninspiring. But apparently, that’s the best bit. Each to their own.
My Darling said she loved seeing me smile today, and I have to say—I loved being normal. Smiling together.
The bus wasn’t just for shopping. It was an excursion, and as cheap as chips (which, ironically, aren’t as cheap as they used to be).
Still, it got us out, hand in hand, into the fresh and windy air.
No headaches today.
No calls, no emails, no thoughts about the treatment plan.
That’s for tomorrow.
Or is it? After all, tomorrow is the big 35th anniversary and my 61st—so we’ll try our best to make it a cosy celebration.
Here’s hoping for another happy day.
