Turning the corner

Up in the night, as Pat had slid out of bed again. We drove around, and we pulled him back into bed. I experienced a bit of a sense of humour failure having to drag myself out of bed in high alarm at two o'clock.  We weren't there long, and apart from the lifting from the floor I kept to the other room not wanting to share my lurgy. Home and nerves still jangling, we found it hard to go back to sleep.

Tired all day from the night's shenanigans, but I felt like I had more life about me. Had to miss the final drawing class of the year. But I felt that I was Turning The Corner. So much so that I walked in the garden and once around the block, which by the time I got home was quite enough. I dozed and read Arthur Machen all day, and really enjoying it. 

Beth and James took Maureen and a friend to see Fiddler on the Roof. Maureen absolutely loved it, and it was a much needed-break for her. Derek and Jason spent the day with Pat, and they are zooming off first thing tomorrow. A bit sad I couldn't see them. Lorraine was babysitting Enzo at Squirrel's End in the evening. 

I popped out to get some fish and chips from Trawlers. Had a chat with the nice woman in there who I spoke to when I first moved to Seaford, very friendly. I should ask her name one day. Fish and chips and then basking on the gold sofa, slowly repairing and reading Machen's Welsh inflected cosmic horror.