How lucky we are to have our little blogging community - many of you, like me, live alone - but never lonely. Only to switch on my computer to be greeted by a group of dear friends. We share each others highs and lows - John's Scotch eggs, dogs and new life awaiting him, Cro's stonking cold (and Lady M's too), Si's wander through fields of orchids and buttercups. I look out of the window - still enveloped here in the East in heavy cloud which the Weather ladies say 'should' waft back to the North Sea but it doesn't always. Monday it disappeared and we had a glorious sunny day, yesterday heavy cloud all day and chilly with it. Grey today with a sharp Easterly breeze. So sunbathe to your heart's content you lot over in the West but spare us a thought under our shawls.
My Shingles are taking their time to leave but they have abated enough to allow my carer to give me a gentle shower today and I feel much better for it. And now to see she has left me a beautiful salad for lunch just adds to the pleasure. Out to lunch tomorrow with friends S and T brings about a debate on what to wear with my carer (she is in charge of my wardrobe and I have to say she keeps it in much better order than I ever did).
The big dilemma is (chaps look away now) shingles and bras don't go together - (at least not where I have got them) and as I have said before - I admit to being vain - I go out rarely and like to look my best when I do get the opportunity to venture forth. No changing from a to b to c in front of the mirror. I decide, my carer gets the items from my wardrobe (all colour-coded and woe betide anyone who dares to put anything in the wrong place) and that's it. So we shall see what emerges.
Incidentally the same applies to my airing cupboard. All towels are stacked taking in mind size and colour. Nobody but nobody puts the towels away when they emerge from the tumble drier but my carer. As my cleaner says when she comes once a month to 'go through' as she says, when she comes in to start everywhere looks immaculate ( the Vacuum cleaner tells a completely different story when she finishes. Wherever does it all come from?)
Well I couldn't think what to write about today so sorry if I have rambled on but give a ninety year old a bit of slack - there will always be the odd day when things go pear-shaped.