Face furniture
Yippee. The ghastly website business is mostly over. Pleasant people in the French Bloke's agency, which now include First Matie with whom I snuck off for lunch to the nearby all-you-can-eat Indian Buffet place. Rather pleasant and good value. Katie on the cusp of changes in where she is living, the work she is doing and so on. She is also training Puffin, with the help of a dog psychologist, to get over its separation anxiety and neediness. I really never knew that dogs could become psychologists, so this was fascinating news.
After work up to the hospital to visit mum. She was looking brighter than yesterday, and standing up chatting to another patient when I arrived. The ward chaotic, with a new patient being brought in and beds being replaced, and more than a dozen people milling about besides me and the inmates. Opposite Mum was a new patient: a luxuriantly-bearded lady with an abrasive personality. All the curtains being swooshed around the beds and the woman with the Van Dyke face furniture added up to a pure David Lynch movie moment.
Mum now on soft foods, and I left her looking at an unappetising plate of soup, mashed potatoes and custard.
The journey home faster and easier than yesterday, and I was in Brighton at a decent hour. Half an hour of playing football with Calliope before going to The Batty with Lorraine to put the world to rights over a Friday night beer.
Yippee. The ghastly website business is mostly over. Pleasant people in the French Bloke's agency, which now include First Matie with whom I snuck off for lunch to the nearby all-you-can-eat Indian Buffet place. Rather pleasant and good value. Katie on the cusp of changes in where she is living, the work she is doing and so on. She is also training Puffin, with the help of a dog psychologist, to get over its separation anxiety and neediness. I really never knew that dogs could become psychologists, so this was fascinating news.
After work up to the hospital to visit mum. She was looking brighter than yesterday, and standing up chatting to another patient when I arrived. The ward chaotic, with a new patient being brought in and beds being replaced, and more than a dozen people milling about besides me and the inmates. Opposite Mum was a new patient: a luxuriantly-bearded lady with an abrasive personality. All the curtains being swooshed around the beds and the woman with the Van Dyke face furniture added up to a pure David Lynch movie moment.
Mum now on soft foods, and I left her looking at an unappetising plate of soup, mashed potatoes and custard.
The journey home faster and easier than yesterday, and I was in Brighton at a decent hour. Half an hour of playing football with Calliope before going to The Batty with Lorraine to put the world to rights over a Friday night beer.
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