It's being so cheerful that (slight misquotation, deliberately) keeps Z going

 I wasn't woken by the dove falling down the chimney, but I soon heard it.  I think it's a dove rather than a pigeon as pigeons are big and make a lot of noise as they tumble.  I moved the bedroom furniture the other day, so the bed is now in front of the fireplace (which has a board in front of it).  So I shifted the bed and tilted the board, opened the window - failed to open the window, as all wood has swelled so much in the rain and opened the other window.  

I hope the little bastard has found its way out.  I waggled a stick and banged it, so that the silly bird would be frightened and flutter about and that didn't happen, so I've shut everything up again.  The room is very cold.  I switched on the electric blanket early this evening.  

Nothing feels great at present.  I'm not good at talking about ongoing problems, so I'll fill you in when I feel able to.  At home, everything is fine.  And fundamentally, things are positive, which I know because I go to bed and don't sincerely wish I won't wake up, which used to be the case for long enough for it to seem normal.

Wink meets friends in London a few times a year to go to the theatre.  Next time, it'll be at the Barbican,  They said they liked the last hotel she booked, could she do it again?  She replied that Waterloo is too far for her, so she'll meet them at the theatre.  So then they said, could she find a suitable hotel near the Barbican?  She's a bit miffed.  Why don't they do it?  I held her hand and said that I so sympathise.  I know exactly what it's like.

I just received a reply to my stroppy email of Thursday.  It started with an apology for not answering earlier, which I saw in the headline.  I am not going to read it until tomorrow afternoon.  I have a firm weekend rule, so a 7.30pm Saturday email is only okay if it's from a friend.  I also think that an employee is a fool if he is still working at that time, unless it's clearly part of his working hours.  

I'm really not quite myself at present, you know.  But there are snowdrops and birdsong and the first daffodils are coming out along the drive.  Z focuses on the positive.

Z plans to redecorate

 I went to a very good lecture about the history of wallpaper, yesterday.  When I was choosing a wallpaper for my bathroom, I found two I liked - the safe, pretty option (honeysuckle) and a Chinese scene that I really liked better.  But I finally went for the honeysuckle, because there wasn't enough wall to display the scene as it should be.  I still miss the toile de jouy that used to be there, I really loved that.  Anyway, Jo the lecturer inspired me to remember the Chinese wallpaper.  And I'm going to have it in my bedroom.  This will mean taking some furniture out of the room and moving my bed to the wall opposite where it is now.  I've done this before and used to do it regularly, I like moving furniture around.  I'm not sure where I'll put the chests of drawers that I don't really want in the room but, apart from the bed itself, I don't want overly bedroom furniture in there.  

My sister likes one of the wallpapers that Jo showed us, which was originally designed in the 1927 and is available now.  I asked Jo about it (she has it in her own house) and have sent Wink the details.

So here they are.  Mine and Wink's.  I love hers too and if she decides against it, I might steal it.  I'll check out the other papers on that site anyway.  I know that wallpaper isn't much used nowadays, but I've always liked it, particularly in less used rooms.

Things are pottering along here.  I am usually too tired to write, or do anything else, in the evening.  I have a finite amount of energy for the day and, when it's used, I go to bed.  That means I'm often awake half the night, of course, but at least I'll be able to lie and enjoy the opposite wall, once I get my act together and sort the room out.  That might take a while, to be fair.

Z is wakeful

 I went to Reading for Carolyn's wake and, beforehand, had lunch with Clare, Tim's neighbour.  She's lovely, a retired music teacher (in a school, not private lessons) who has many interests and is a great person to chat to.  Driving down, I felt anxious, which I had plenty of time to think about.  I was sad about Carolyn, wanted to see Clare and was curious to see what J and S have done with Tim's house, but also emotional about that.  I'm still a mess, really, but I mostly hide it well, both from myself and everyone else.  The truth is that I'm still full of grief and I can't see how I'll ever not be.  But there's no point in dwelling on it.  

The house looks really good.  Clare says they've done a lot inside - it was already great, but nothing much had been changed since Tim and Viv's renovations.  They've taken down the wall between the kitchen and scullery area - it worked well as it was, but I can quite see that it would be equally good to have a single big room.  They've added an en suite to the main bedroom - again, sensible.  Tim always said that a buyer would either split that big bedroom into two or else add a bathroom (the main spare room has its own en suite and there's also a huge bathroom).  Outside, they've put in new windows.  I knew it would happen, though I loved the original 1920s windows, but the window frames needed some attention and, with the old ones in place, only secondary double glazing was possible (and necessary, Tim and Viv very soon discovered).  The scaffolding that is up at present is for the solar panels, a lot of them.  Clare also says what lovely, friendly neighbours they are.  So the house is in very good hands, I'm very glad.

Today, I took Wink to the station, as she's having a couple of days in London.  This evening, I picked up friend Daphne and we went to the local theatre for a live-streaming of La Traviata, which was stupendous.  One can take the singing and staging for granted, but Violetta's acting was out of this world.  It's now 11.15 and I'm in bed, but I can't see myself able to sleep for a while.

Bitter chill it was

 It thawed enough and didn't freeze again, which made all the difference.  I was able to get the car out onto the road.  Wink and Pam didn't come, which I'm glad about, it could have really been a disaster for their health.  I was so cold that I didn't really defrost until I spent half an hour in a very hot bath that evening.

Today, I took eCat for her annual vaccination and checkup, which went well.  She's lost an appreciable amount of weight, to my surprise - I do weigh her food so that Wink and I don't just give her everything she wants.  Then Wink had a dentist appointment in Norwich and I had a contact lens check - luckily, the times gelled.  

I'm most grateful for my eyesight. I always recognise that it could all go awry, but it hasn't yet.  My eyes are still fine - more than fine, for my age.  Last year, I had to have new glasses because the sight in my left eye has improved.  This year, a new contact lens prescription because my right eye is better.  From -2 to -1.75 in each case, so not much and it's just tweaking.  I'm incredibly grateful, though. 

I let eCat out 15 minutes ago, because she asked - obviously, she has a perfectly good cat flap - and it was just starting to drizzle.  I just went to call her in and there's no sign of her, so I suspect she's either whinged at Wink's back door or else used the aforementioned cat flap.  The forecast isn't good, she's not outside in this wind and rain.

And she's just come to say hello, sensible girl.

It really hasn't snowed all that much...yet

 I'm supposed to pick up our lecturer tomorrow morning, but the weather forecast isn't great (this is British understatement) and I'm not confident that I'll be able to get my car onto the road.  Luckily, someone has offered to go to the railway station in my place, so now we hope that there's not enough snow to block the road or the railway tracks.  

Wink was able to get a doctor's appointment this morning - the car got stuck on its way up the slight slope at the end of the drive, I had to reverse and have another go - and she has been referred for diagnostic tests, which is very helpful.  I'm so glad to have a family member who listens to advice, which is more than Russell or Tim ever did.  

Since we were out already, we went to the local supermarket and I stocked up, mostly on vegetables - I will go to the greengrocer next time, I feel quite guilty that they didn't get my custom today.  I also bought a gammon joint and cooked it for lunch today, inviting Wink too.  I usually eat my main meal in the evening, but felt we needed a good meal and the opportunity to relax afterwards.  I scuttled round fetching coal and logs, feeding animals and sorting things out and, once we'd had lunch, had nothing to do but feed the outside cats again, which happened early.  I've upped their rations - I give them a decent helping of GoCat and, usually, 2-3 pouches of cat food in the morning, 3 in the afternoon (for breakfast, they also finish any E-Cat leftovers from the day before).  But now, they're having 4-5 in the morning and 5 in the afternoon and they are glad of it.  They can live on that, if they have to and hunting brings a bonus.  I doubt there's much to find and I'm sorry for the field mice anyway.  No rabbits, the foxes have killed them all.  

I must write to Susie to tell her that, if I can't get my car down the road, I won't be able to get to her dad's funeral.  I will do my best, however, of course.

Z doesn't build a snowman

 And then yet another friend died.  At least the others were all last year, but Valentine died on the 2nd of January.  She was nearly 94 and very unwell, it wasn't altogether unexpected - but it's really cast a dampener on our feelings, with all these bereavements and she was the much-loved matriarch of a big family.  Although she lived here, her funeral was today in Surrey - her mother church is there - and I couldn't go, as I was helping Pam.

Pam has become more frail in the last few weeks and I have told her that I don't think she is strong enough to go to Peter's funeral.  I've also told Wink that I don't think she should go either.  She has a chest infection and is exhausted.  It's too cold for either of them to go from the car park to the church.  They've both listened and taken on board what I've said, though the decision is theirs, of course.  

It hasn't snowed a lot, but each snow shower lies on the last, as it's not thawing, even when it's sunny.  I've doubled the barn cats' rations and am taking out bottles of warm water for them and the chickens.  I've also, sadly, realised that I've finally left my youth behind.  We haven't had any snow for the past few years and so it took me a couple of days to notice that, for the first time ever, I haven't wanted to make a snowman.  This makes me somewhat sad, but doesn't change anything - I'm not in the least inclined to build one.  Going out every day to fill a barrow with logs and get scuttles of coal is quite enough for me.  I hope the weather is good enough for Wince to come on Thursday, when he'll stock us up with enough for a week. 

Instead of frolicking, I've been cooking.  It's probably because the kitchen is guaranteed to be warm, but it reminds me of the winter after Russell died, when I felt the need to cook obsessively, even though I wasn't eating much.  My freezer is very well stocked, with single portions of soups and stews.  It's just as well, because I keep buying a lot of vegetables and something has to be done with them.  

I have just read that a requirement for eye tests for over-70s is to be brought in, to renew a driving licence.  It seems remarkable that this has never been made before, or that it's entirely up to the driver to self-report if they've been advised not to drive.  I have huge sympathy for those who rely on their cars, but I know too many older people who really are not safe to drive, whether because of sight or another reason.  

Never trust a day that seems to go well

 It had been quite a good day, in that I'd done housework - boring but useful - and helped Pam - not boring (I even made her laugh) but also useful.  Wink kindly sorted out the animal feeding and I got home around five o'clock.  She'd seen the car lights, so came through to tell me we were invited to visit friends tomorrow morning.  

I started cooking vegetables and rice for dinner and it was all going well, when I had a brief but devastating email from a friend, to say that his wife died a few days before Christmas.  I'm not a crying person nowadays, but I stood in the kitchen weeping.  I'm unexpectedly devastated.

C had been friends with Tim's wife V since primary school.  C and P married young - they were very open in saying that their first baby was on the way, which was the reason for their early marriage, but it lasted for nearly 60 years.  C had a cancerous mole removed, many years ago, from her leg, but a lump appeared 19 years later on the same vein line in her leg.  The doctors had never known a secondary cancer of that type appear, so many years later.  It was treatable with pills and, though it impacted on their lives, she'd been doing okay.  P also developed cancer a few years later. 

Tim simply adored C.  He looked on both of them as his best friends but she was on a pedestal.  I once said that to them, when I'd been asked round for dinner after Tim died and, as they didn't quite know what to say, I added "until he met me, of course," which broke any awkwardness - which didn't exist for me.  I understood.  She was delightful.  

They're holding a wake in a couple of weeks in Reading.  I'm free on that day, but need to get home the same night.  I tried to phone him, but it went to voicemail, so I've emailed that I'll be there.