Mother's Day

Mother's Day in the UK at least. The sun shining this morning, and all well. Lorraine and I got up to have coffee and a bite of breakfast. Maureen called, feeling unwell, and Lorraine called an ambulance. This arrived quickly and they did tests on her, and then took her back to hospital. Lorraine and I did a spot of gardening, and then Lorraine drove to Ashford. She arrived at the Hospital when the doctor was making their rounds. Luckily Maureen's was well enough to be released back into the wild. A stressful start to the day for everyone. Beth was due to call around this morning and spend some time with Lorraine, but they bumped that till next weekend. 

Meanwhile I called Mum and had a pleasant chat with her. She sent me and Lorraine a note thanking us for the Mother's Day card. Felix has mange, and Mum has a treatment for him. There are foxes in her neighbourhood. He must have caught it from a fox. I aim to zoom up to see her and Mas next week. They were going to the Jolly Badger this afternoon.

Otherwise I found myself with some time. I had done quite a bit of garden work, to the point of working up a bit of a sweat. I then went for a walk down by the sea down towards Newhaven, bumping into Delores Adele's pal, who was piloting a tricycle with a person in front, in a scheme where people get cycled up and down by the sea. She was busy trying to recruit me for it.

I downloaded a new audiobook. I wanted something a bit lighter -- and am greatly enjoying The Trees by Percival Everett, which is funny and dark about two black cops investigating gruesome crimes in a small Mississippi hillbilly town called Money. Catherine recommended it to me yesterday. I realised I heard them talking about it on A Good Read, on Radio 4, and had thought then it sounded good.

Had planned to get ahead of the week and do some work this afternoon, but then I couldn't be bothered.  I have ideas for my own writing but just feel burnt out. I am going to take a break from freelance after this bout is over. 

Spent the evening watching an old documentary about the even older Monty Python, and listening to jazz music. 

Below bits of standing water at the edge of Tide Mills.