A Good Day

Today counts as a good day. Small things make it so.

I let Robin's 'voices', always bad first thing in the bathroom in the morning, wash over me...give him a hug instead of closing my ears.

I spray the sticking front door lock with WD40 - it works. I feel triumphant.

I change the sheets on the bed. Remember my father who was always so grateful and smiley when I put clean sheets on his bed. I remember his big hugs.

I speak to a man at the Driving Assessment Centre and he says he'll send us a letter. I was waiting for our Neurology Professor to refer Robin  - emailed him and found out I can self refer. Much better than waiting for someone else to do it - taking charge.

I make Sugar Coated Cinnamon Almonds with Robin before he goes off with his walking group. The care worker who collects him is early.  Gives me an extra 20 minutes.

While I'm waiting for the nuts to finish cooking, I sort out the stack of cardboard boxes in the shed which I use to store the apples - getting ready for the gardener to come and pick the apple tree this afternoon. I tidy the shed a bit, brush away the cobwebs everywhere and sweep the floor which makes it look better even though it still needs serious de-cluttering. Realise Robin may never use a spade or a rake or an electric drill ever again. Or ride his bicycle.

 In the fruit and veg section at Aldi I remove a few of the inner dimpled linings of the apple boxes for my apples and put them in my trolley along with the bottles of fizzy water and jars of olives. These cardboard pocket trays are perfect for keeping the apples from touching each other - I've been collecting them the last few weeks whenever we go to a supermarket.

When our gardener still hasn't arrived I ring to find out from his wife that he can't come today - his other job over-ran -  he didn't have my phone number.  The apples will keep on the tree for a few more days and it gives me the bonus of an afternoon I didn't expect.

At the allotment I pull the last of the carrots - black ringed with carrot fly now - and the last few tomatoes and runner beans. Everything is wildly overgrown, abandoned and neglected.  I feel sad about it - all Robin's work and enthusiasm lost in a wilderness of weeds.  I don't feel hopeless though just indecisive about what to do next. And I'm not going to decide now.

I've been trying for ages to find somewhere in the Cotswolds for us to stay for a few days in October as we haven't had a summer holiday. I've been regularly trawling the holiday websites ( and losing the will to live) for a cottage - must be private and have two loos and not share a garden and not cost the earth and be close to as many National Trust properties as possible so we have somewhere to go in the long days.

 This afternoon I found a perfect cottage and booked it. Something to look forward to so long as I remember that our 'normal' now isn't anything like it used to be when we went on holiday.

Supper is already made - something left over from last night - and The Great British Bake Off on telly. So that counts as a good night as well as a good day.