Lorraine saves the day
Coffee and toast and a long chat with Mum and Mase this morning. Made sure I had scored several jams before we left, as Mum's jams are rather splendid. Lorraine and Mum conferring about jam making and looking at old cook books.
Then off to Brighton again, to meet Lorraine's mum and dad who were staying with Lorraine before flying off to Ireland to visit Lorraine's excellently named brother Kenny Peter. When we were driving along, I was struck suddenly by something that I'd never thought before: that the motorway was actually quite a beautiful thing. We were driving on a four lane motorway, and the cars were all travelling at the same speed, almost in formation. Not sure why it struck me as beautiful, but it did.
Anyway, Lorraine parked the car at the road at the end of my Twitten and I popped in to feed Calliope and drop some bits off. Emerging from my house after a couple of minutes I saw a rather disturbing scene. Lorraine was between two cars, one of which had collided into another, and she was supporting a man trapped between the vehicles. Later it became clearer what had happened: the handbrake had come off in a big car that the man had parked on the hill. This had rolled back and trapped his legs.
Lorraine, who had been waiting for me, ran out and helped his support his weight, and also held him and talked to him. He was in a good deal of pain and slipping in and out of consciousness. As the services turned up the firemen eventually freed him, and he was conscious when taken away. Much later Lorraine called the hospital and found that he was okay, and spoke to his wife who she had comforted lots too. I stood about feeling slightly useless, but also full of admiration for Lorraine. People very nice. The family of the man were invited into a house opposite, and the guy from the local cafe came out with a tray of teas for everyone, and offering help. The Battle of Trafalgar emptied out with blokes coming to move the car, but were told not to.
After, Lorraine was rather shaken but okay. One of the policemen said she had been a brick, and the firemen were very impressed with her too. Her old ward sister training kicked in, but it is different going into work expecting to deal with crises, rather than having one just thrust upon her. Lorraine is a splendid person.
We met her parents Pat and Maureen in the Basketmakers some time later for Sunday lunch and for Lorraine a much needed glass of shandy. I thanked Maureen for organising my airing cupboard when she and Pat were housesitting for me. Organisation is an excellent thing.
By happy accident that Matt was in there too, with a friend John, and we all sat on a table and had a really nice roast. The Basketmakers is rapidly becoming one of my favourite Brighton Pubs. Eventually Lorraine and Pat and Maureen left, and I hung about with Matt and John, discussing our project and also, at some length, death. I really like Matt which is handy in a collaborator.
Home to chat to Lorraine by phone, and delight in Chelsea beating Manchester United on match of the day. But shortly before I went to bed, I realised with horror that Lorraine had used all the drama of the day to steal the jars of jam Mum had given me.
Coffee and toast and a long chat with Mum and Mase this morning. Made sure I had scored several jams before we left, as Mum's jams are rather splendid. Lorraine and Mum conferring about jam making and looking at old cook books.
Then off to Brighton again, to meet Lorraine's mum and dad who were staying with Lorraine before flying off to Ireland to visit Lorraine's excellently named brother Kenny Peter. When we were driving along, I was struck suddenly by something that I'd never thought before: that the motorway was actually quite a beautiful thing. We were driving on a four lane motorway, and the cars were all travelling at the same speed, almost in formation. Not sure why it struck me as beautiful, but it did.
Anyway, Lorraine parked the car at the road at the end of my Twitten and I popped in to feed Calliope and drop some bits off. Emerging from my house after a couple of minutes I saw a rather disturbing scene. Lorraine was between two cars, one of which had collided into another, and she was supporting a man trapped between the vehicles. Later it became clearer what had happened: the handbrake had come off in a big car that the man had parked on the hill. This had rolled back and trapped his legs.
Lorraine, who had been waiting for me, ran out and helped his support his weight, and also held him and talked to him. He was in a good deal of pain and slipping in and out of consciousness. As the services turned up the firemen eventually freed him, and he was conscious when taken away. Much later Lorraine called the hospital and found that he was okay, and spoke to his wife who she had comforted lots too. I stood about feeling slightly useless, but also full of admiration for Lorraine. People very nice. The family of the man were invited into a house opposite, and the guy from the local cafe came out with a tray of teas for everyone, and offering help. The Battle of Trafalgar emptied out with blokes coming to move the car, but were told not to.
After, Lorraine was rather shaken but okay. One of the policemen said she had been a brick, and the firemen were very impressed with her too. Her old ward sister training kicked in, but it is different going into work expecting to deal with crises, rather than having one just thrust upon her. Lorraine is a splendid person.
We met her parents Pat and Maureen in the Basketmakers some time later for Sunday lunch and for Lorraine a much needed glass of shandy. I thanked Maureen for organising my airing cupboard when she and Pat were housesitting for me. Organisation is an excellent thing.
By happy accident that Matt was in there too, with a friend John, and we all sat on a table and had a really nice roast. The Basketmakers is rapidly becoming one of my favourite Brighton Pubs. Eventually Lorraine and Pat and Maureen left, and I hung about with Matt and John, discussing our project and also, at some length, death. I really like Matt which is handy in a collaborator.
Home to chat to Lorraine by phone, and delight in Chelsea beating Manchester United on match of the day. But shortly before I went to bed, I realised with horror that Lorraine had used all the drama of the day to steal the jars of jam Mum had given me.
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