Sloe present

A late breakfast, drinking out of my Best Grandad in the World mug. I have yet to earn this accolade, but it's a lovely thought.  

Lorraine caring for Pat and Maureen much of the day. I walked my bare minimum, which is ten thousand paces, then cooked one of my very herby chicken stews which turned out excellently. Also read a bit of Arthur Machen and contemplated my failures as a writer of poetry. 

Another trip to Pat and Maureen in the evening, as Pat was a bit agitated. Home again and we discovered some sloe gin from last year, and had a nip of it. Wondered who had given it to us, until Lorraine said the writing on the label was her own. It was like a delayed present to ourselves. Watched some of Match of the Day, and repaired to bed. Chelsea won at least.

Lorraine taking on so much at the moment, and I worry about her.