Plip, plip . . .
That's the sound of my marbles dropping out one by one.
You haven't heard from me for most of the summer for various reasons, the main one being my early mornings, when I used to sit at the computer and catch up on the doings of my virtual friends in LJ land, have been usurped by the necessity to be a taxi throughout the summer. Also, since her fire, my poor mother-in-law has nowhere to call her own and so is living here and she does talk. In fact there have to be several unfortunate donkeys nearby that lack hind legs . . .
But I digress. Why is Di finally admitting to going bonkers?
Well it does have to do with said taxi-service and said mother-in-law (although nothing to do with three-legged donkeys). You see, MIL had a doctor's appointment on Friday for her blood-pressure to be measured and required Di's taxi. Please be assured I have no grouse with this - we have a bus service that goes past the house but only once an hour and anyway, MIL is very elderly, the doctor's surgery is beside a pleasant place to walk the dogs and I planned to combine the two chores.
Friday morning I arrived home from my drive to the ferry to drop off Mr T and subsequent visit to the swimming pool to join the other jolly early-morningers trying to stave off the passage of time by a spot of aquatic exercise, and sat down to breakfast with MIL. We chatted and drank tea, then she looked at her watch, remarked on the time and fetched her coat and bag. I looked up from my crossword and suggested she take a brolly because it was raining a bit and went back to the puzzle, assuming she was popping along the road to the shop for a paper.
An hour later in the middle of vacuuming up the dog-hairs I noticed the time and wondered what was taking her so long. The paper shop is only half a mile away and even an old lady couldn't walk that slowly. Anyway it would soon be time for her doctor's appointment.
Doctor's appointment!!!
Suddenly the penny dropped why she'd been all ready in her coat and hat to go out. I dropped everything, leaped into the car and shot off along the road. I must point out here that the doctor's surgery is about four miles away along the shore. All the way there I expected to see an exhausted old lady collapsed at the side of the road, but no, not a sign. When I got to the doctor's I dashed in to ask if she'd arrived, to learn that she'd been a bit late, but had seen the nurse and had left to get the bus. Knowing the bus didn't go for another half hour, I became even more confused because I'd not passed her on the road and there are no alternative routes. I was hoping and praying someone had given her a lift.
No sign of her the whole road home, but when I arrived, she was, sitting in the kitchen. There was slightly chill atmosphere, a definite reproach in her voice when she told me of the *kind* man with a van full of ladders who had taken pity on her and driven her to the surgery after she'd asked him how much further it was and the *dear* (but apparently misinformed) lady who arrived on the wrong day for her appointment and had given her a lift home. *sniff*
What kind of a daughter-in-law am I that could leave an 86 year old woman to walk eight miles there and back (and incidentally her blood-pressure was raised . . .)?? Where had the part of my brain gone with the appointments calendar??
And why the heck didn't the silly old bissom REMIND me?????
Plip, plip . . . there go another couple. At this rate, by the time I'm 86 I'll be dribbling into my tea and singing 'my old man's a mushroom'.
You haven't heard from me for most of the summer for various reasons, the main one being my early mornings, when I used to sit at the computer and catch up on the doings of my virtual friends in LJ land, have been usurped by the necessity to be a taxi throughout the summer. Also, since her fire, my poor mother-in-law has nowhere to call her own and so is living here and she does talk. In fact there have to be several unfortunate donkeys nearby that lack hind legs . . .
But I digress. Why is Di finally admitting to going bonkers?
Well it does have to do with said taxi-service and said mother-in-law (although nothing to do with three-legged donkeys). You see, MIL had a doctor's appointment on Friday for her blood-pressure to be measured and required Di's taxi. Please be assured I have no grouse with this - we have a bus service that goes past the house but only once an hour and anyway, MIL is very elderly, the doctor's surgery is beside a pleasant place to walk the dogs and I planned to combine the two chores.
Friday morning I arrived home from my drive to the ferry to drop off Mr T and subsequent visit to the swimming pool to join the other jolly early-morningers trying to stave off the passage of time by a spot of aquatic exercise, and sat down to breakfast with MIL. We chatted and drank tea, then she looked at her watch, remarked on the time and fetched her coat and bag. I looked up from my crossword and suggested she take a brolly because it was raining a bit and went back to the puzzle, assuming she was popping along the road to the shop for a paper.
An hour later in the middle of vacuuming up the dog-hairs I noticed the time and wondered what was taking her so long. The paper shop is only half a mile away and even an old lady couldn't walk that slowly. Anyway it would soon be time for her doctor's appointment.
Doctor's appointment!!!
Suddenly the penny dropped why she'd been all ready in her coat and hat to go out. I dropped everything, leaped into the car and shot off along the road. I must point out here that the doctor's surgery is about four miles away along the shore. All the way there I expected to see an exhausted old lady collapsed at the side of the road, but no, not a sign. When I got to the doctor's I dashed in to ask if she'd arrived, to learn that she'd been a bit late, but had seen the nurse and had left to get the bus. Knowing the bus didn't go for another half hour, I became even more confused because I'd not passed her on the road and there are no alternative routes. I was hoping and praying someone had given her a lift.
No sign of her the whole road home, but when I arrived, she was, sitting in the kitchen. There was slightly chill atmosphere, a definite reproach in her voice when she told me of the *kind* man with a van full of ladders who had taken pity on her and driven her to the surgery after she'd asked him how much further it was and the *dear* (but apparently misinformed) lady who arrived on the wrong day for her appointment and had given her a lift home. *sniff*
What kind of a daughter-in-law am I that could leave an 86 year old woman to walk eight miles there and back (and incidentally her blood-pressure was raised . . .)?? Where had the part of my brain gone with the appointments calendar??
And why the heck didn't the silly old bissom REMIND me?????
Plip, plip . . . there go another couple. At this rate, by the time I'm 86 I'll be dribbling into my tea and singing 'my old man's a mushroom'.