A beardy hug
In an excellent mood, off to the quack, who is a lovely man and with a medical student who he quizzed with testing questions. Off the antibiotics for the time being, thank God. Some new pills which the pharmacist, who seems to like me, took me into a little room to discuss.
Then, as my hair had passed its clown-like tipping point, to the barbers. Anton says there are two patterns in male baldness, 'the rockabilly', a cooler sort of frontal balding favoured by him and, less cool, 'the benedictine' which my area of concern is steadily turning into. Came out with a sleek head, and pointed it in the direction of Janet and Ken's house.
Delighted to see Ken on his feet to greet me with a beardy hug when I arrived. He was full of praise for Janet, and mentally sharp, and he in far better shape than I had expected, and they are tinkering with his meds to get things right, and was on the receiving end from his doctor about actually taking them. Ken is being visited every day a Mauritian nurse, which gives him the opportunity to speak to her in French. Half an hour chatting with them, before I went home to start work again, pausing only to buy a pot of live yogurt packed with friendly bacteria, who greeted me warmly enough before I engulfed them in an attempt to repair the damage of months of antibiotics.
My new French client paid me speedily for the pitch I worked on, restoring my faith in humanity somewhat. It transpired the difficult-to-contact client was at a funeral too, which explained everything. Have been listening to A Woman in Berlin as an audio book. It is a woman's account of the Russian invasion at the end of the WW2, grim but fascinating. Heard about it on Radio 4's A good read.
Lorraine working from home for a bit this afternoon. When she returned, we went off for an early curry and putting the week to rights. Returned by 8.00 and she slumped to sleep, exhausted on the sofa. Betty home briefly this evening, before going to work tomorrow in Brighton. Her performance mid-week had rightly gone down very well and she was feeling proud of herself.
Then, as my hair had passed its clown-like tipping point, to the barbers. Anton says there are two patterns in male baldness, 'the rockabilly', a cooler sort of frontal balding favoured by him and, less cool, 'the benedictine' which my area of concern is steadily turning into. Came out with a sleek head, and pointed it in the direction of Janet and Ken's house.
Delighted to see Ken on his feet to greet me with a beardy hug when I arrived. He was full of praise for Janet, and mentally sharp, and he in far better shape than I had expected, and they are tinkering with his meds to get things right, and was on the receiving end from his doctor about actually taking them. Ken is being visited every day a Mauritian nurse, which gives him the opportunity to speak to her in French. Half an hour chatting with them, before I went home to start work again, pausing only to buy a pot of live yogurt packed with friendly bacteria, who greeted me warmly enough before I engulfed them in an attempt to repair the damage of months of antibiotics.
My new French client paid me speedily for the pitch I worked on, restoring my faith in humanity somewhat. It transpired the difficult-to-contact client was at a funeral too, which explained everything. Have been listening to A Woman in Berlin as an audio book. It is a woman's account of the Russian invasion at the end of the WW2, grim but fascinating. Heard about it on Radio 4's A good read.
Lorraine working from home for a bit this afternoon. When she returned, we went off for an early curry and putting the week to rights. Returned by 8.00 and she slumped to sleep, exhausted on the sofa. Betty home briefly this evening, before going to work tomorrow in Brighton. Her performance mid-week had rightly gone down very well and she was feeling proud of herself.
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