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.

Hound Land

I went to Norwich today, to look at curtain material in John Lewis.  I'd already noted down some I quite liked from their online shop - not sure that I've found the right thing yet, I'll keep looking.  Afterwards, I ambled round the shop looking at the stuff in the sale (I bought really dull household items) and, in the space of less than ten minutes, three people passed me with their dogs on leads.  Is this a new thing?  A dog being led round a department store?  They were all well behaved and one looked reasonably happy (I'm not sure a waggy tail is great around shelves of items for sale) but one of them was clearly miserable.  Surely it's better to leave the dog at home or in the car?

I've never come across this before - of course, dogs being walked in the city, but not dragged round shops. I feel sorry for small dogs being taken into crowded places anyway, such as our local street markets, but at least that's in the open air.  Were dogs so indulged during lockdown that, even years later, they can't cope at home alone?

My daughter's family had a puppy during lockdown, in fact.  She grew up with people all around her - can't remember all the Covid timeline, but the children were being home-educated when she was a puppy, Weeza was furloughed and Phil was working from home.  They made sure there was a gradual transition for her and bought a camera to check she wasn't pining.  She wasn't.  It all went smoother than they'd really expected.

These dogs were well behaved, which a lot of lockdown dogs were not, so perhaps it's just a matter of them being considered family.  That doesn't mean that being taken to a busy department store, where a dog is knee-high to a lot of strangers, is a kind way to treat it.  I didn't think much of the first one, but by the third, it seemed to be a trend.

Z relaxes with nothing to do

 It's tranquil, here at the Zedery.  Most of the family came over today, except for Al and co, whom we are visiting tomorrow.  Ro and the children stayed for lunch and the afternoon.   I have done no decorating for Christmas, except for a large piece of gold cloth that's draped over the dining table, and some cards up.  

Eloise cat has finally come back through.  She steers clear when the family turns up - to a degree, that's because she's wary of a lot of people about, but she's normally fine with Ro and co.  It's when E-daughter arrives that she vanishes, because they used to bring their dog, when she was a puppy, and E-Cat hates dogs.  Sadly, that branch of the family is permanently tainted.  No matter, she has Wink's place for refuge, though hunger eventually prevails.  Wink doesn't normally feed her in the annexe, though she does through here.  

Anyway, now that everyone has left, it is very quiet.  I made a salad sandwich for dinner - I'm still not eating much, but I did drink some red wine.  The second glass was too much and I poured half of it back into the bottle (I take the view that I'll drink it eventually, so it's not unhygienic) and I rather wish I had a spare chocolate right now because, while I don't feel undernourished and I'm not hungry, I do feel unsatisfied.  

Still, I have wrapped all the presents except Wink's - gotta have something to panic-wrap at midnight on Christmas Eve.  She's already received her main present, which is Friendship of the National Gallery (you can go to all the exhibitions at no extra cost, without booking - there are various other perks, but they're relatively little use if you don't live near London).  

I remembered a tube of Extra Strong Mints.  I am no longer unsatisfied.

A breach, dear friends and supper

What struck me most in the news today was the breach in the canal in Shropshire.  We didn't go on that stretch, when Mig and Barney kindly took me on a canal holiday in April 2015, but only because we went westwards over the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct into Wales.  A canal breach is always serious and this one was horrendous.  It was the good fortune of one man waking to use the loo in the night, at the right time to realise what was happening, jump off his narrowboat and warn his neighbours, that saved them.  I'm not sure what effect it'll have on boats stranded either side of the breach, they could be stuck for a long time.  

We went to visit Pam this afternoon.  I'm so awfully sorry for her.  Her family seems to squabble among themselves and her and they don't appear to recognise her loss of a husband of 50 years.  As difficult as she can be, she's the one whom all attention and kindness should be focussed on.  Having always been very capable and in charge, she now is very dependent, which is tough to cope with.  She needs to be listened to and helped, not argued with - it doesn't matter if there's a better way of doing something, she's at the centre of the circle and and complaints should go out, not in. 

Look up the circle of grief ring theory - summed up by "comfort in, dump out."  I saw what could happen when my father died, leaving my mother a sudden widow at 46.  "There! Now you'll know what it's like to be lonely!" is not the thing to say.  Nor "sell your big house and move to a nice little bungalow in Worlingham." I didn't get any of this, in fact, I didn't seem to attract unkindness.  Nor kindness, for the most part.  Numbered fewer than the fingers on one hand were local friends who asked me round, in the first year after Russell died.  Blog friends did considerably better and are so much loved - they already were, but appreciated even more.

If a friend is widowed, please ask them over.  Invite another couple or a few more friends, nothing to challenge but don't try to match up.  Within the first year, they may not notice, but after that they'll feel it's an attempt to pair with another single person.  Just include them, relaxedly.  They'll be incredibly grateful and may tell you so, years later.   Just a kitchen supper is fine.

Z seems to be too darn hot - just temperature, though

 I haven't been very well for the last few weeks.  I've tried to ignore it but I am finally acknowledging it.  

It started, early in the month with a threatened cold.  I didn't have time for a cold, so I took Lemsip and carried on and that seemed to be okay.  The two days we had in London were tiring, so being too tired for dinner and going straight to bed in the early evening, three days running, seemed understandable too.  The aching head - not a headache, my entire skull - and the aching jaws, so I couldn't eat chewy food, weren't that bad, because I was too tired to eat much anyway.

Just a virus, I assumed, which may well be right.  Not terribly likely to be cancer, weight loss is understandable because I'm hardly eating and the symptoms seem too sudden.  Glandular fever?  I've looked it up.  It might fit, actually.  Except, I've not knowingly absorbed anyone's saliva for well over four years. 

Anyway.  I'm not planning to snog anyone, so I'm not infectious.  But I slept all afternoon, having slept ten hours last night and been in bed for twelve.  My right lower jaw is tender, as if I've been punched.  I don't feel especially ill but, according to my watch, my night time heart rate and temperature have been appreciably raised for the last couple of weeks.  I'd just ignore it all, but I have a scheduled blood donation for the 2nd January and I think I'd better postpone it.  

When I'm not asleep, I'm sitting around reading, so there's that.

It's the season, so Z will be jolly

 Things don't get completed and I don't want to whinge, so I say nothing.  That is, I say nothing here, my sister and I, for different reasons, enjoyably whinge to each other and sympathise, so that job is done without adding to anyone else's burdens.  

Wink is away at present, having gone to Shaftesbury (near where she used to live) for a funeral.  She's glad that she saw her friend in September, because they hadn't been together since before lockdown - Wink moved in December 2020 and there had not been an opportunity earlier.  She was in her 90s, but so vibrant that it's hard to take in.

I'm off to Pam this afternoon again, for the third time in a week - Christmas is just having to look after itself - and hope to help with some necessary paperwork.  I scanned various papers onto my computer and have emailed them to her, so that they can go on hers, not that she can use it.  Understandably, she wasn't interested and Peter was happy to look after things, so she never learnt.  

We went to London last week, which was excellent.  I've been meaning to go to the Wallace Collection, not having visited for some years.  Then I read that Caravaggio's fantastic Cupid is on loan from a Berlin museum, so it was a good moment.  It's a terrific painting, of course and it's just right there, without any barriers, in this most civilised of museums.  We didn't spend a lot of time on the rest of the collection, so will have to go another time.  Then my friend who's a picture frame expert took us to the National Gallery to tell us about the really amazing work the framing team has been doing and also the complete rehanging of the paintings that took place this year, following the refurb of the Sainsbury's wing.  

Next day, we went to the Tate to see the Lee Miller photo exhibition and the Turner/Constable exhibition that celebrates the 250th anniversary of their birth.  I can very much recommend both - allow plenty of time, because they're both sizeable exhibitions.  We will have to go back, because there was a fire alarm when we'd only been there 40 minutes or so and we had to trudge outside, wait for half an hour and then very slowly were allowed back in again.  We knew immediately it was just a drill, as the fire brigade didn't turn up.  I suppose these things are necessary and there's never a good time, but we were fairly pissed off, as our time was limited by the time of our train back.  

Two big exhibitions in one morning were a lot, but we'd planned to stop for coffee and there was no time for that, but never mind.  We will just plan another jolly.

But now, I'm making toasted cheese and then will head off to see Pam.

When Z gets old and losing whatever (I count on keeping my hair)

 I'll say cautiously, it's okay this week, so far.  One friend, not even one I'd mentioned, who'd had various physical problems for most of the last 18 months, increased in the last 3, was tested for cancer (not directly linked with anything else she'd had) last week and has been cleared.  So that's one piece of fantastic news.  

A wonderful lecture this morning, very well received and people already want to have her again.  The great thing about booking lecturers is that I get a lot of the credit.  People thank me!  I've done nothing except book them.  I do go to a lot of trouble and research thoroughly and make every effort to get everything to go well, but that's not the point, it's the person and their delivery that matter.  I belatedly filled in the report forms for the autumn lectures and gave three outstandings and an excellent, which was absolutely to their credit.  If there's any extent to which I get any credit for recognising potential, it just shows I'm a background person and I'm fine with that.  

I'm picking Pam up tomorrow and taking her to her house, to fetch some papers.  She'd asked one of her offspring, who's really busy.  Actually, I'm really busy too, but I prioritise and Pam is my friend.  I'd prioritise her more than anything else if she were my mother and I lived only 10 miles away.  But I also recognise family conflicts over many years and taking sides isn't my business.  I just think that one needs to do the right thing or else walk away altogether - which may well be justifiable.  I rather hope that I'll never be so much despised by my children.

I don't know if I'll have a long life - I've already outlived a short one, but I don't have expectations.  All I hope is that, if I'm destined to be an old woman, I'll be a lovely one.  Kind and willing to listen and praise.  It's honestly all I really want in my old age, if I get there.  Although 72, I don't count myself there yet.