Anne dies

Anne died in hospital this evening. Anton's obviously exhausted and numb, having visited her every day for the last 25 days while himself awaiting heart surgery. We got a call from Anton this evening. We offered to go around, but understandably he was just shattered and wanted to go to bed.

My day started with Lorraine taking my blood pressure. Turns out after several attempts my blood pressure reading was actually pretty good, and this evening too. I looked at a screen with some blossom blowing in the wind while a soft  Irish voice said calming stuff about breathing. This seemed to counteract the usual raging white coat syndrome. Lorraine is brilliant, and she did it three times in a row, and each time the reading dropped. It's the opposite when someone else does it.

Otherwise faffing about not achieving much other than domestic chores and telling Mum I'd visit tomorrow.

While Lorraine off at her pottery course, this evening I went to the Tidelines show in the Crypt, which had Adele's work among others in it.  Really nice chat with Chris Ford, a local potter who Lorraine has talked to lots. Ended up talking about ancient cave art, and he told me he'd done a zoology degree. Adele introduced me to her German friends, a mum whose name I forget, dad Jurgen and daughter Matilda who had lent their vocal skills to a tune by Patrick called Cheese. Nice to lurk about, one of the participants a composer P W Morton playing his music downstairs, and I stayed for several of his short pieces, but then had to split like a member of the proletariat to buy fish and chips because I was starving.

Not long after Lorraine got back from pottery we spoke with Anton. A sad end to the day. I really liked Anne, and she was always very kind and friendly to me over the years. A lovely woman.