The 11th & 12th; I just want to curl up.

The 11th of November.

A long day of much driving but a lovely afternoon at our destination.

We set out early as it’s a good three hours to Wimbledon, where Hilary and Jeremy live. I took the opportunity to give the new Taylor Swift album a listen on the way – I like it, but I think I need time to love it. I also listened to the song from the trailer for The Greatest Showman multiple times – that, I love.

We arrived just after twelve, to find Christine had got there not long before us. We had a quick sit down in the living room, but before long, lunch was ready, so we went through to the table in the kitchen. It was a perfect day for cottage pie, and Jeremy was very appreciative when he joined us from his morning on the river.

After we’d finished, Peter and Sophie appeared with the twins! I was given Grace, who remained asleep for the entire visit, waking only to yawn and fart. Such a chilled baby. Henry was passed around everyone, I think – he likes to wriggle and gets uncomfortable, and he becomes tetchy when he is too warm. When he started to cry, they’ve learned that soon it is food time, so it was time for them to go home.

We stayed until about five, talking about Christine and Tilly’s Morocco trip, our current kittens, and I found out that Jeremy’s cousin is a Duke. Just casually drop that into conversation. We drove pretty much straight home, bar a stop for petrol, and the kittens were ready to climb the walls.

The 12th of November.

Good and bad night. Good, because I had a Zopiclone, so I had a pretty deep, unbroken sleep. Bad, because I dreamed that I was in hospital, my cancer had come back, I thought it was getting better when in fact it had spread everywhere and everyone had been lying to me about it.

Not a brilliant start to my day. Equally then not helped by me putting my leggings on inside out. Nitwit. Once they were on the right way round, I spent my morning typing up two blog posts. The second one was hard – to write, to edit, to share. I don’t want to elicit any specific reaction, I’m just saying how I feel.

For lunch, we replicated Nigella’s brie and parma ham toastie (minus the figs, ugh), then this afternoon, I sat and crocheted while watching The Blacklist. Then Mommy returned from Grandma’s, and we’ve caught up with X Factor, Only Connect and Masterchef.

I am looking forward to bedtime, despite knowing that post-Zopiclone sleep is very hit and miss. I just want to curl up.

The 21st & 22nd; I wish I could make it easier.

The 21st of August. 

This summer has been such garbage. Last night I had to have my blanket on top of my duvet because it was so cold. I am wearing a polo neck jumper in the middle of August. Ridiculous. 

This morning I did a blog post which took forever to upload – I think I need to look at the app I use because I’m fairly certain that’s to blame. Spent a lot of time sitting with the kittens – still no joy from Hugo or Henrietta, they don’t want to talk to me. I think Hugo does want to explore, he’s just super timid about even leaving the cage. 

After lunch, I went to the QE to see Dean. When I arrived, a doctor was in with him, but Orlando was hanging around the nurses’ station so we went to the kitchen for a catch up. He was fascinated by my wheelchair, and I made him feel old because I told him about the decade anniversary. Dean wasn’t good – it is really hard to get his pain under control and until they do, he can’t have any chemo (if that’s what he decides he wants) or go home. He was making the small pain noise that I have made myself many a time. It’s involuntary and it means it’s really bad. I wish I could make it easier. I can’t bear to think of him like this. 

The 22nd of August. 

It would be so nice to wake up and not hear Donald Trump’s voice on the Today programme. It’s such a crappy way to start a day. Ugh. 

Morning was breakfast, bit of kitten petting and putting some crocheted goodies in the post for Peter and Sophie. We went out at half eleven because I was meeting Sadie for lunch at the Cereal Killer Café at twelve. Incredibly, she actually arrived before me. That never happens. It took us a long time to decide on what we wanted, despite us both having looked at the menu a lot online before going. I eventually went for the Chocopottomus, which is Coco Pops, Krave, and a Kinder Happy Hippo with chocolate milk, plus I had cinnamon bun cookie dough bites on top. Oh, the joys of being an adult. I am now hungry again so cereal for every meal is probably not a viable lifestyle choice. 

We had fun reviewing last night’s My Dad Wrote A Porno, her recent holiday, my new kittens and medical exploits. We also were very bemused by the twelve (ish) year old boy near us who looked like he’d been plucked from Saved by the Bell – white t-shirt tucked into some very dad jeans that were belted. He could only have looked more 90’s if he’d had curtains. 

Since getting home, I’ve had to get changed because I can’t seem to dress appropriately for the weather. It’s too inconsistent!