A-hobblin' and a-moanin'

A cold day, with snow in the north but welcome rain on Kenny acres. Saw on facebook that there had been  spot of snow in Hove apparently this morning. Back gyp preventing me from doing much. Frustrating to waste my free days yelping and shuffling about. Nested in the one chair that is now comfortable with four layers and a shawl-like sofa throw over my shoulders editing an interview for the podcast. The raw recording riddled with my mistakes, but luckily I can simply edit them out. Meanwhile the freelance job I might have been starting tomorrow has melted away. Good news -- as I want to devote my energies to moaning and being miserable.

Meanwhile the likeable Chris - arriving today with pain-free gnashers - working hard inside and out. And Lorraine busy cooking, and tidying and ferrying Adele and Patrick back from dropping their car off for an MOT and taking delivery of garden furniture and lots more  before she left for Maureen and Pat's this evening having cooked dhal and a delicious curry. 

A call from Carl. He spoke to Lorraine too as he and Jayne had to go into hospital for a meeting about Jayne's mum's death. An unusual business, and upsetting for Jayne. There had been a mistake made on her mum's final day of treatment, and this was explained to them. Not wanting to make the plight of the NHS worse, Carl and Jayne didn't want to make trouble over it. Carl texted after, and said that Lorraine had been lovely. 

Chris emailed once he got home saying he had seen on facebook that a misaddressed parcel had been delivered for Lorraine at number 20. I crept along the street, my loping setting a dog in a car baying murderously at me, and collected it from a friendly neighbour. Small town life is different.  

Lorraine arrived safely in Ashford. In the evening, I opened my poetry files and did some tweaking based on the updates I had made competition. Cats lurking quietly with me in an island of warmth in the lounge. I had the electric heater on: a faux plastic coal fire, with a fan heater above it. Otherwise we have no heating as the gas is disconnected and we are having a cold snap. The faux coals are cheering too.

And so to bed, with Calliope and two hot water bottles. Brian on the stairs wistfully looking at the door waiting for Lorraine.