Angels in the Waggon

Another bright morning. Bumped into Chris at Seaford station, who was off to Nottingham, and chatted with him as far as Lewes. Then trained up to Mill Hill, and bussed to Edgware reading A Natural History of Ghosts by Roger Clarke. I put it down for a few months, halfway through. Enjoying the second half much more than the first. 

Tired by the time I reached Mum's house a little after noon. I found Mum in vampire mode, unable to stand light, and with irritated sore eyes. She has conjunctivitis, and she had eyedrops for it, but had only taken one dose. She insisted she was okay to drive to the pub, and when we arrived in the pub she made for the darkest corner and I went to the car to retrieve the shades she had found in the car en route. Briefly she sat there in exactly the way a vampire would. However, after half a cider things improved and her eyes no longer stung so much. We left the dark corner and she sat happily with her back to the fire, and much more cheerful. We had lunch, and I spoke to her group of pals at the end of the bar. As the first of them arrived, the bailiff guy who is I think called Paul called over and asked about her eyes -- as they had diagnosed what was wrong with her the day before and suggested the antibacterial drops. What pleases me is they all know and like Mum a great deal, and are worried if they don't see her, and enjoy her being with them and keep an eye on her generally. Angels of the Wagon and Horses.

Mum and I drove home in what was now a powerfully grey afternoon. I then travelled down to Seaford without incident, walking home in the rain. Lorraine with Pat and Maureen singing carols at Stratheden Court.  Home, and pleased to be here.