John has felt shattered all day. It wasn’t so bad as we lay in bed this morning until about ten-thirty, but fatigue set in as he got out of bed and had a shower. By heck, it took it out of him. So much so, that he spent most of the day in the chair with his eyes closed.
I don’t know what I’ve been doing all day but it feels like I’ve been busy. However, one thing I do remember doing was little bit of admin on our, and Mum’s affairs this afternoon, so I nipped up to the post office to send some documents off.
John had decided by then that he was keen to do something. He opened the patio doors and I left him gazing out at ‘the estate’ and basking in the warm sunshine. He thought he might venture out and do a spot of weeding again. “Will you wait until I get back?” I asked. “We’ll see,” he said, not wanting to commit himself to being nannied.
When I arrived back, not only was he outside but he’d lifted a couple of slabs on the steps that lead down to the patio to try and glue them into place. They’ve been very wobbly of late, and so we bought some stuff called ‘Sticks Like Sh*t’ to stop ’em wobbling. We’re not sure how successful the job has been, but one of them seems OK, at least.
The evening was spent much like the afternoon. Telly on, eyes closed with the occasional moments viewing. Now he’s in bed with a few moans and groans, as his leg, hip and back bother him. The morphine is at the ready.
Take care everyone – and may God bless us all.