Well, I am happily settling into living alone. It is quite a revelation to have the whole house to myself all the time, and not to have anybody to complain if I don't clean the kitchen. Which, incidentally, I will be doing tomorrow afternoon, as I shall be leading a soapmaking workshop there, and don't want anyone to get the idea that I have no idea about kitchen hygiene. I am fairly sure that my theoretical knowledge, at least, is excellent!
Having given my bed away to a couple of friends, I am borrowing Serena's spare bed. I must take a photo of my new, improved bedroom, actually - there is an amazing amount of space in it. It is just the sort of bedroom I would like to have always. Such a pity that I shall be leaving this house in less than a month. The mattress is very comfortable, also, and I have a double duvet to go with it, despite the bed being a single bed.
I have also sent a lot of possessions home with Mother, and have offered to donate several pieces of furniture to some friends. The number of things that I own is slowly reducing. The house, of course, is not exactly tidy - the loss of my big bookcase has left the living room covered in books, and a search of my charity shop box for a shirt for Anne for Granddad's funeral has left the front room covered in the boxes that formerly resided on top of the charity shop box.
I am sure that this post was much more interesting than this in my head. It was also longer. Alas, my cognitive ability seems to be on holiday a little early (it's supposed to stay with me until tomorrow afternoon), and I therefore am having difficulty even making it to the end of this sentence. Perhaps that is my cue to give up and go to bed.
Showing posts with label Grandad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grandad. Show all posts
Thursday, 6 August 2009
Sunday, 2 August 2009
May I live in interesting times
So, I am now single. The house, it would appear, is just the perfect size for me and my things. If only life could stay like this, and I didn't have to move into a room somewhere...
The wedding, it has to be said, did not go all that well. The bridal march fell apart in a reasonably spectacular fashion, when I lost my place and couldn't work out which notes to play. I played some notes, but there was no way and no circumstances in which they could have been described as well-combined notes.
And Granddad died a couple of days ago. The parents didn't tell me yesterday because they didn't want to mess up this wedding for me (just as well?), but they did tell me when I called today.
And there is a random little insect on my settee. I hope that this is not a bad thing. Ah well - it's a random little squashed insect now.
So, it has been a busy day. I am tired. I still don't know what the hymns are for tomorrow, but at least the bed settee no longer lives in the front room and I can access the piano in the usual fashion; this will aid my practice. Tonight I get to sleep on a proper bed! Yay!
On which note, I shall start the going to bed process. It will be a long one today. I predict a nap tomorrow afternoon.
The wedding, it has to be said, did not go all that well. The bridal march fell apart in a reasonably spectacular fashion, when I lost my place and couldn't work out which notes to play. I played some notes, but there was no way and no circumstances in which they could have been described as well-combined notes.
And Granddad died a couple of days ago. The parents didn't tell me yesterday because they didn't want to mess up this wedding for me (just as well?), but they did tell me when I called today.
And there is a random little insect on my settee. I hope that this is not a bad thing. Ah well - it's a random little squashed insect now.
So, it has been a busy day. I am tired. I still don't know what the hymns are for tomorrow, but at least the bed settee no longer lives in the front room and I can access the piano in the usual fashion; this will aid my practice. Tonight I get to sleep on a proper bed! Yay!
On which note, I shall start the going to bed process. It will be a long one today. I predict a nap tomorrow afternoon.
Sunday, 12 October 2008
It is written!
The letter, that is. Heather and I spent the afternoon on it, and I think that it may be ready to send out tomorrow with very little alteration!
That's all I have to say on that subject; it appears that giving one's post a title in haste is not necessarily the way forward. Sorry about that.
I went to visit the parents on Friday. As per usual, they fed me incredibly well. HWSNBN discovered a taste for whisky and ginger he didn't expect to have, and also for falling asleep upright, falling asleep on the sofa and falling asleep fully clothed on the bed. It would appear that he is not the most seasoned of whisky drinkers.
Nana may have turned into a cat; she is currently sleeping for about 20 hours per day (she did not drink any whisky to cause such an effect), only waking up to do what is necessary, including eating. She is not eating a massive amount, but sleeping in a warm room isn't exactly demanding of energy, and she does have a little in the way of fat reserves (although not on her legs. They are impressive. Sparrows would be jealous of their slenderness). Hopefully the sleeping is a sign of recovery rather than winding down. If it is a sign of winding down and she is feeling OK, well, there are worse ways to go.
Grandad's doctor of last weekend was probably wrong with his gloomy prognosis (i.e. only a couple of weeks left; cancer spread to the brain). They are now talking about maybe putting him on dialysis within about a year. He isn't a happy little teddy bear, though. I think that he may be thinking in terms of perhaps seeing some of his grandchildren for the last time (either that, or he is jealous of them, with their leaving of the hospital, and all that). I think he is being overly gloomy, and am unhappy having genetics likely to cause* that sort of thinking within me. See - it's all about me, me, me. Sorry - I digress. That was supposed to indicate that I am not blaming him for being depressed, but I don't think it came out that way. Ouch. Clumsy sentence. Clumsy paragraph.
Anyway, people often complain about mommyblogging; I appear to have started grandchildblogging. I think that, without great insight and wit, this may be much less interesting than mommyblogging (in which a reasonable amount of insight and wit tends to be required). Perhaps I should change my medium and talk about other things.
Yes, that is what I shall do. The grandparents can be considered to be in a fairly similar or better situation until I inform you otherwise. Now I know that you will all be on the edges of your seats, having been gripped by this saga. I am sorry if you are disappointed. I shall just have to write about other interesting things instead.
Now I have to do other interesting things. Like learn how to write.
*Facilitate? Increase the likelihood?
That's all I have to say on that subject; it appears that giving one's post a title in haste is not necessarily the way forward. Sorry about that.
I went to visit the parents on Friday. As per usual, they fed me incredibly well. HWSNBN discovered a taste for whisky and ginger he didn't expect to have, and also for falling asleep upright, falling asleep on the sofa and falling asleep fully clothed on the bed. It would appear that he is not the most seasoned of whisky drinkers.
Nana may have turned into a cat; she is currently sleeping for about 20 hours per day (she did not drink any whisky to cause such an effect), only waking up to do what is necessary, including eating. She is not eating a massive amount, but sleeping in a warm room isn't exactly demanding of energy, and she does have a little in the way of fat reserves (although not on her legs. They are impressive. Sparrows would be jealous of their slenderness). Hopefully the sleeping is a sign of recovery rather than winding down. If it is a sign of winding down and she is feeling OK, well, there are worse ways to go.
Grandad's doctor of last weekend was probably wrong with his gloomy prognosis (i.e. only a couple of weeks left; cancer spread to the brain). They are now talking about maybe putting him on dialysis within about a year. He isn't a happy little teddy bear, though. I think that he may be thinking in terms of perhaps seeing some of his grandchildren for the last time (either that, or he is jealous of them, with their leaving of the hospital, and all that). I think he is being overly gloomy, and am unhappy having genetics likely to cause* that sort of thinking within me. See - it's all about me, me, me. Sorry - I digress. That was supposed to indicate that I am not blaming him for being depressed, but I don't think it came out that way. Ouch. Clumsy sentence. Clumsy paragraph.
Anyway, people often complain about mommyblogging; I appear to have started grandchildblogging. I think that, without great insight and wit, this may be much less interesting than mommyblogging (in which a reasonable amount of insight and wit tends to be required). Perhaps I should change my medium and talk about other things.
Yes, that is what I shall do. The grandparents can be considered to be in a fairly similar or better situation until I inform you otherwise. Now I know that you will all be on the edges of your seats, having been gripped by this saga. I am sorry if you are disappointed. I shall just have to write about other interesting things instead.
Now I have to do other interesting things. Like learn how to write.
*Facilitate? Increase the likelihood?
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Slow race to the death (kitty)
It would appear that my grandparents have both become a little competitive about the dying (or frightening relatives, anyway) thing. Although Grandad beat Nana into hospital this time round, she scored extra points for being more spectacular and needing an ambulance. Also for convincing Mother and her sister that she was a goner. Again.
I suppose that this is as appropriate a point as any to explain to whom my grandparents belong, and to provide a little bit of background. Grandad is Daddy's dad, and Nana is Mummy's mum. They do not like each other very much. I think that Grandad probably started it by not liking Nana, and she mostly doesn't care much. I think it goes without saying at this point that they do not live together (sometimes people ask me).
Nana has three children, Uncle Tickle, my mum, and Anna. Grandad has four children,* Alistair, Daddy, Petra and Amelie. Both grandparents live locally,** as do my parents, Anna and, to an extent, Petra. Thomas*** is not very local, and Tickle and Amelie live very far away indeed.
Anyway, yesterday evening Nana had a seizure, and was rushed into hospital. Apparently she is well now. I think that they mean that they cannot find anything specifically wrong with her. Elizabeth, you might be interested to hear that she managed a blood pressure of 169/35 in the ambulance. I know that you can come up with something more spectacular in a heartbeat (groan), but you have to give her some credit for trying.
Grandad is apparently having difficulty finding a ward. His kidneys are doing their thing (for a change) so the renal people don't want him. I forget who else was involved. He is apparently getting rather weak.
So, it is rather a tense time with both grandparents. I shall be visiting them this weekend. Hopefully Nana will be out of hospital (she was due out today, but there was an incident), and will be at my parents', or at Anna's. Grandad will be in hospital.
Based on past performance, Nana is very miserable, and probably wants to die. She hates getting old because of the discomfort and indignities that come with it. When she had a stroke a few months back it seemed as though she would manage an oblivious death, without ever working out what had happened. She had a great evening before the stroke, and it would have been about as easy a death as one can expect. I do hope I didn't give her the cough which has made her so ill.
Based on past performance, Grandad is very miserable and wants to be better. I wish he didn't think that it was something he did which made him ill. That is not a happy place to be in. So much regret and resentment.
Now I prepare to be lambasted for my insensitivity. And also to find out what lambasted means. Too late - looked it up. I used it appropriately. Yay for me.
To compound matters in a small and insignificant way, I have just received the hoodie I bought off e-bay for Anne. What I thought was a tag on the front saying "Death Kitty" turns out to be part of the design. I have bought, for a nearly 12-year-old who is probably about to face death for the first time, a hoodie with the word "Death" on the front. In bold. With a large kitty skull and crossbones above it.
Looking at the photo now, I feel exceptionally stupid; it is very obvious. Not as obvious as when it arrives and you face the thing, though. Hmm - I will have to put some thought into that. I may buy a Jack Skellington patch to sew over it. Or Iron it aggressively for a bit. Or buy her an umbrella instead.
*In case you didn't realise, all names except for my own are anonymised on here, as I didn't ask anyone's permission. Alas, I just ran out of both inspiration about fake names and the capacity to remember what I called everyone. Any new names from this point onwards are subject to being altered without warning, possibly in a confusing way. I shall certainly be confused.
**Yes, there. Not local to me, mind you - local to them.
***See - I'm confused already - I meant Alistair. I wasn't even proof reading it and I caught that error. This does not bode well.
I suppose that this is as appropriate a point as any to explain to whom my grandparents belong, and to provide a little bit of background. Grandad is Daddy's dad, and Nana is Mummy's mum. They do not like each other very much. I think that Grandad probably started it by not liking Nana, and she mostly doesn't care much. I think it goes without saying at this point that they do not live together (sometimes people ask me).
Nana has three children, Uncle Tickle, my mum, and Anna. Grandad has four children,* Alistair, Daddy, Petra and Amelie. Both grandparents live locally,** as do my parents, Anna and, to an extent, Petra. Thomas*** is not very local, and Tickle and Amelie live very far away indeed.
Anyway, yesterday evening Nana had a seizure, and was rushed into hospital. Apparently she is well now. I think that they mean that they cannot find anything specifically wrong with her. Elizabeth, you might be interested to hear that she managed a blood pressure of 169/35 in the ambulance. I know that you can come up with something more spectacular in a heartbeat (groan), but you have to give her some credit for trying.
Grandad is apparently having difficulty finding a ward. His kidneys are doing their thing (for a change) so the renal people don't want him. I forget who else was involved. He is apparently getting rather weak.
So, it is rather a tense time with both grandparents. I shall be visiting them this weekend. Hopefully Nana will be out of hospital (she was due out today, but there was an incident), and will be at my parents', or at Anna's. Grandad will be in hospital.
Based on past performance, Nana is very miserable, and probably wants to die. She hates getting old because of the discomfort and indignities that come with it. When she had a stroke a few months back it seemed as though she would manage an oblivious death, without ever working out what had happened. She had a great evening before the stroke, and it would have been about as easy a death as one can expect. I do hope I didn't give her the cough which has made her so ill.
Based on past performance, Grandad is very miserable and wants to be better. I wish he didn't think that it was something he did which made him ill. That is not a happy place to be in. So much regret and resentment.
Now I prepare to be lambasted for my insensitivity. And also to find out what lambasted means. Too late - looked it up. I used it appropriately. Yay for me.
To compound matters in a small and insignificant way, I have just received the hoodie I bought off e-bay for Anne. What I thought was a tag on the front saying "Death Kitty" turns out to be part of the design. I have bought, for a nearly 12-year-old who is probably about to face death for the first time, a hoodie with the word "Death" on the front. In bold. With a large kitty skull and crossbones above it.
Looking at the photo now, I feel exceptionally stupid; it is very obvious. Not as obvious as when it arrives and you face the thing, though. Hmm - I will have to put some thought into that. I may buy a Jack Skellington patch to sew over it. Or Iron it aggressively for a bit. Or buy her an umbrella instead.
*In case you didn't realise, all names except for my own are anonymised on here, as I didn't ask anyone's permission. Alas, I just ran out of both inspiration about fake names and the capacity to remember what I called everyone. Any new names from this point onwards are subject to being altered without warning, possibly in a confusing way. I shall certainly be confused.
**Yes, there. Not local to me, mind you - local to them.
***See - I'm confused already - I meant Alistair. I wasn't even proof reading it and I caught that error. This does not bode well.
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Busy day
No news on Anne or Grandad - HWSNBN has yet to sort out the phone (we just lost free land line calls, but have better Internet. Apparently) so that I can call people cheaply. Mother promised to call me later this week. I suspect that Anne is fine today, but Grandad is not. I would be interested to know where they are keeping Nana - she has been supervised pretty much constantly for the past couple of weeks, mostly at her house, but I suspect that Mother is back at work this week. Robert is probably on Nana-sitting duty.
I went to register with my new doctor today. I think the nurse with whom I registered was a little alarmed at all of the small things that are wrong with me. I am to see the doctor on Monday morning. I wonder exactly what I am supposed to be seeing him about, though. Is it the gluten intolerance (and associated crap diet), the ongoing asthma investigations, or the questions being raised as to the viability of my contraception? It can't be the weird itchy legs (kept under control by never shaving and eating six evening primrose capsules each day, except for this evening, when it has most certainly not been under control); I didn't get round to mentioning that. I don't think I alarmed her with my alcohol intake, although my total lack of exercise for the past few weeks is apparently not good. I may be going climbing on Thursday, though. It's such a pity I have a vicious paper cut on my finger - mixing that with chalk will be uncomfortable.
I appear to be a little bit of a mess at the moment.
I also failed to find the motivation to make dinner (the main reason my diet is so crap - lack of motivation). HWSNBN made us beans on toast (fake toast for me). I then fell asleep in front of the TV for 2 1/2 hours (HWSNBN was watching the TV and I was lying in front of him while he stroked my head. Life doesn't really get much more perfect than that), and woke up feeling refreshed. I made pancakes, which I was kind enough to share with HWSNBN. They were good. I have two left over for breakfast, which will be a welcome treat. I have to be at work on time tomorrow; an unusual occurrence, which happens mercifully infrequently, and nearly always results in no breakfast for me.
Work tomorrow promises to be interesting - it is my favourite day of the work year. I will be fed a delicious, nutritious lunch, and will get to talk to the people with whom I will be working until I escape. I hope.* I shall do very little of any value in the afternoon,** and shall go to Serena's house afterwards for my tea. That will also be relatively nutritious. I predict fake pasta with a really interesting sauce - she knows how I feel about soup at the moment. We may do something about that letter.
And now to bed. I hope I get to sleep quickly - the thing I hate about falling asleep so close to bed time is that it often takes far too long to get to sleep again. I should have just had an early night. Damn me and my weakness.
Oh, and apologies for the boring entry. One day it will improve. I know, I say that all the time, and so far it only seems to have got worse, but it will, I promise.***
*i.e. I hope that I don't have to stay there so long that a whole new lot of people arrive. That would be bad.
**Perhaps not strictly true - it may well be valuable, but it will not be particularly difficult, nor will it take much effort.
***I don't really promise. Sorry. I would like to do so, and I do think it will get better, but I think that promising was a bit rash, really. My funny died.
I went to register with my new doctor today. I think the nurse with whom I registered was a little alarmed at all of the small things that are wrong with me. I am to see the doctor on Monday morning. I wonder exactly what I am supposed to be seeing him about, though. Is it the gluten intolerance (and associated crap diet), the ongoing asthma investigations, or the questions being raised as to the viability of my contraception? It can't be the weird itchy legs (kept under control by never shaving and eating six evening primrose capsules each day, except for this evening, when it has most certainly not been under control); I didn't get round to mentioning that. I don't think I alarmed her with my alcohol intake, although my total lack of exercise for the past few weeks is apparently not good. I may be going climbing on Thursday, though. It's such a pity I have a vicious paper cut on my finger - mixing that with chalk will be uncomfortable.
I appear to be a little bit of a mess at the moment.
I also failed to find the motivation to make dinner (the main reason my diet is so crap - lack of motivation). HWSNBN made us beans on toast (fake toast for me). I then fell asleep in front of the TV for 2 1/2 hours (HWSNBN was watching the TV and I was lying in front of him while he stroked my head. Life doesn't really get much more perfect than that), and woke up feeling refreshed. I made pancakes, which I was kind enough to share with HWSNBN. They were good. I have two left over for breakfast, which will be a welcome treat. I have to be at work on time tomorrow; an unusual occurrence, which happens mercifully infrequently, and nearly always results in no breakfast for me.
Work tomorrow promises to be interesting - it is my favourite day of the work year. I will be fed a delicious, nutritious lunch, and will get to talk to the people with whom I will be working until I escape. I hope.* I shall do very little of any value in the afternoon,** and shall go to Serena's house afterwards for my tea. That will also be relatively nutritious. I predict fake pasta with a really interesting sauce - she knows how I feel about soup at the moment. We may do something about that letter.
And now to bed. I hope I get to sleep quickly - the thing I hate about falling asleep so close to bed time is that it often takes far too long to get to sleep again. I should have just had an early night. Damn me and my weakness.
Oh, and apologies for the boring entry. One day it will improve. I know, I say that all the time, and so far it only seems to have got worse, but it will, I promise.***
*i.e. I hope that I don't have to stay there so long that a whole new lot of people arrive. That would be bad.
**Perhaps not strictly true - it may well be valuable, but it will not be particularly difficult, nor will it take much effort.
***I don't really promise. Sorry. I would like to do so, and I do think it will get better, but I think that promising was a bit rash, really. My funny died.
Sunday, 5 October 2008
Life just got more interesting...
I had a lovely evening yesterday. It was Serena's birthday outing, and so we went out.
I also had a lovely day. HWSNBN was a bit cold, so he put the central heating on.* He then oiled the bathroom window so that it would shut. He also brought me a cup of tea in bed. I stayed in bed for a while and finished off a book I was reading. I'm not really sure what I was supposed to have got out of it - either something about how you shouldn't wait around for happiness/redemption, but should go out and grasp life, or that even when life is crap and it's partly your fault you can still act with grace and die alone. And the nuns will think you're great.
I then had a shower and luxuriated in the warmth downstairs for a few hours, before finally starting to make the rest of Serena's birthday presents. Unfortunately, I was a little too relaxed, and managed to leave the house about 10 minutes after I was due to arrive at Serena's house, which meant that I was 45 minutes late. Nonetheless, we made it to the Chinese restaurant in plenty of time (they had a table which wouldn't be available for long, which suited us perfectly).
After dinner, we popped into a bar for a quick drink, then went to the theatre to see Jeremy Hardy. He was very good, and seemed nice and moderate. Very Radio 4. He also catered for us younger members of the audience with a quick game of peek-a-boo. I admit that I was indeed a bit frightened at first, but that I did find it more funny when I realised he hadn't actually disappeared.
Afterwards we returned to Serena's house for a cup of tea, and I stayed there overnight. Her sleeping bag is my new best friend - I have never encountered such a fluffy, friendly sleeping bag before.
Today, after church, Heather and I went out for a drive, some lunch and a quick walk. The weather was great - sunny and warm (in contrast to church - it was incredibly cold. The nuns are on holiday and nobody could get into the office to turn the heating on. Brrrr). Lunch was tasty - dessert was meringue with brandy cherries and cream. Unfortunately, I drank far, far too much tea and rather embarrassed myself with my tiny bladder capacity. I think that it may have been somewhat similar to taking a 2-year-old in the middle of potty training for a walk. I may not be invited again.
Afterwards, I returned home to be met with the news that Grandad's cancer (?!?) is getting worse and that he has about two weeks to live. I was supposed to hear this news from my mother, but she left home about an hour before I called to take my baby sister Anne to the hospital because she has a really bad headache. I am hoping that it is a "The doctor is not open so we will go to the hospital" rather than an "Oh shit" visit; I daresay I shall find out when they return and Mummy calls me.
I did get to speak to Robert, my brother, though. He is hungover, having been to Liverpool yesterday night. Apparently he enjoyed himself. He says that Nana, who has been rather ill with what seems to be the cough which stopped me from breathing properly, is asleep on their settee, has been eating, and is giving the appearance of being compos mentis, which is excellent news. Nana is much more friendly and amenable than Grandad, which means that if the natural laws are obeyed she should live much less long than Grandad. When I was told to call Mother, I thought that it would be bad news about her.
I am feeling slightly like a bad person - I know that I should have been a better granddaughter to Grandad. I also know that he should have been a better Grandad (see how I deflect the blame from myself ever so neatly?). Alas, I am not a boy, I went to a crap university (twice) and I got a 2:2, so I'm not worth remembering really. I shall not justify myself here - it always comes out so defensive (funnily enough).
I am quite frightened of having to visit him. I am afraid of people vomiting, and am worried that he will do so. Or somebody else on his ward might do so. That would be frightening. I need to grow up, really. Being frightened of spiders or needles would be so much more socially acceptable. It wouldn't have helped much with my multiple spider attack in the shower yesterday, though. Massive great hairy things! I thought it was the same one back again the second time, but HWSNBN assures me that there were two. When I thought about it, the second one was slightly smaller and may have had hairier legs. Naturally, as they were so big, they were easy to handle. I shall say no more.
I am worried about Anne, too. I don't like my baby sister going to the hospital (not that it has happened before - it's usually me with a broken bit of anatomy), and hospital-worthy headaches make me uneasy. It's probably just a migraine - she's at about the right age. That means that she will probably just be condemned to multiple episodes of excruciating pain for a few years, and banned from taking the pill forever. Well, there are worse things. There are better things, too.
As I appear to have mentioned everyone else I ever met, I should also say that Louise has been dropped off at university. She is in what promises to be an excellent room this year. I must visit some time...
So there we go. An only slightly ranty account of what I have been up to. There was more, but I think that this is enough. The more was less important, and possibly also less interesting, although I was interested.
UPDATE: Anne has returned from the hospital - apparently it was a migraine. She is now feeling better. Also, it is reputed that 60% of men get prostate cancer, and they reckon that Grandad is one of them...
*This is a bad sign in terms of habitability - he doesn't usually get cold. When he decides to put the heating on, I know that I was better off in bed than out of it. Did that make sense?
I also had a lovely day. HWSNBN was a bit cold, so he put the central heating on.* He then oiled the bathroom window so that it would shut. He also brought me a cup of tea in bed. I stayed in bed for a while and finished off a book I was reading. I'm not really sure what I was supposed to have got out of it - either something about how you shouldn't wait around for happiness/redemption, but should go out and grasp life, or that even when life is crap and it's partly your fault you can still act with grace and die alone. And the nuns will think you're great.
I then had a shower and luxuriated in the warmth downstairs for a few hours, before finally starting to make the rest of Serena's birthday presents. Unfortunately, I was a little too relaxed, and managed to leave the house about 10 minutes after I was due to arrive at Serena's house, which meant that I was 45 minutes late. Nonetheless, we made it to the Chinese restaurant in plenty of time (they had a table which wouldn't be available for long, which suited us perfectly).
After dinner, we popped into a bar for a quick drink, then went to the theatre to see Jeremy Hardy. He was very good, and seemed nice and moderate. Very Radio 4. He also catered for us younger members of the audience with a quick game of peek-a-boo. I admit that I was indeed a bit frightened at first, but that I did find it more funny when I realised he hadn't actually disappeared.
Afterwards we returned to Serena's house for a cup of tea, and I stayed there overnight. Her sleeping bag is my new best friend - I have never encountered such a fluffy, friendly sleeping bag before.
Today, after church, Heather and I went out for a drive, some lunch and a quick walk. The weather was great - sunny and warm (in contrast to church - it was incredibly cold. The nuns are on holiday and nobody could get into the office to turn the heating on. Brrrr). Lunch was tasty - dessert was meringue with brandy cherries and cream. Unfortunately, I drank far, far too much tea and rather embarrassed myself with my tiny bladder capacity. I think that it may have been somewhat similar to taking a 2-year-old in the middle of potty training for a walk. I may not be invited again.
Afterwards, I returned home to be met with the news that Grandad's cancer (?!?) is getting worse and that he has about two weeks to live. I was supposed to hear this news from my mother, but she left home about an hour before I called to take my baby sister Anne to the hospital because she has a really bad headache. I am hoping that it is a "The doctor is not open so we will go to the hospital" rather than an "Oh shit" visit; I daresay I shall find out when they return and Mummy calls me.
I did get to speak to Robert, my brother, though. He is hungover, having been to Liverpool yesterday night. Apparently he enjoyed himself. He says that Nana, who has been rather ill with what seems to be the cough which stopped me from breathing properly, is asleep on their settee, has been eating, and is giving the appearance of being compos mentis, which is excellent news. Nana is much more friendly and amenable than Grandad, which means that if the natural laws are obeyed she should live much less long than Grandad. When I was told to call Mother, I thought that it would be bad news about her.
I am feeling slightly like a bad person - I know that I should have been a better granddaughter to Grandad. I also know that he should have been a better Grandad (see how I deflect the blame from myself ever so neatly?). Alas, I am not a boy, I went to a crap university (twice) and I got a 2:2, so I'm not worth remembering really. I shall not justify myself here - it always comes out so defensive (funnily enough).
I am quite frightened of having to visit him. I am afraid of people vomiting, and am worried that he will do so. Or somebody else on his ward might do so. That would be frightening. I need to grow up, really. Being frightened of spiders or needles would be so much more socially acceptable. It wouldn't have helped much with my multiple spider attack in the shower yesterday, though. Massive great hairy things! I thought it was the same one back again the second time, but HWSNBN assures me that there were two. When I thought about it, the second one was slightly smaller and may have had hairier legs. Naturally, as they were so big, they were easy to handle. I shall say no more.
I am worried about Anne, too. I don't like my baby sister going to the hospital (not that it has happened before - it's usually me with a broken bit of anatomy), and hospital-worthy headaches make me uneasy. It's probably just a migraine - she's at about the right age. That means that she will probably just be condemned to multiple episodes of excruciating pain for a few years, and banned from taking the pill forever. Well, there are worse things. There are better things, too.
As I appear to have mentioned everyone else I ever met, I should also say that Louise has been dropped off at university. She is in what promises to be an excellent room this year. I must visit some time...
So there we go. An only slightly ranty account of what I have been up to. There was more, but I think that this is enough. The more was less important, and possibly also less interesting, although I was interested.
UPDATE: Anne has returned from the hospital - apparently it was a migraine. She is now feeling better. Also, it is reputed that 60% of men get prostate cancer, and they reckon that Grandad is one of them...
*This is a bad sign in terms of habitability - he doesn't usually get cold. When he decides to put the heating on, I know that I was better off in bed than out of it. Did that make sense?
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