Night Light

This pot of tulips is the brightest thing in the garden....in my life.... at the moment. 

It's too late to write anything sensible tonight. So some  random moments from my week.

Monday - waking with heart palpitations  -  worried about what to do about the annuities we've bought   - only a few days left to change our minds and financial advisor on holiday.

Sun shining on the bathroom mirror - shocked by sight of new grey hairs. And dark half moon shadows under my eyes.

The sound of a plate dropping to the floor. Can't think why I asked Robin to lay the table when I know he can't carry anything heavier than a straw.

Spotting Robert Peston  who reports for BBC News at Ten ( I think, at least he used to) in the organic farmers market on Thursday with two cameramen. He's interviewing an Indian stall holder about Cameron spending 7 million quid on leaflets for the EU referendum. He walks over to the stall where my friend and I are in the queue for curly kale and carrots -  he's wearing his usual jaunty scarf and floppy hair- we avoid eye contact and he interviews the woman next to us. I wouldn't know what  to say - except Stay in the EU. How can separation and isolation ever be a good thing? 

Watching the two lovely OT's this afternoon setting up the heavy, awkward full length mattress and pillow riser on Robin's side of the bed with the electric hand held thingy to press to make it go up and down. It's to make it easier for him to get out of bed. Watching his face - already knowing it's going to have to go back. He tries it out for his rest after we come back from driving to Tiverton. An hour later I find him on my side of the bed.

This morning, lying on a massage table, nearly asleep, lovely peaceful therapist with her hands on my neck, my phone rings. I ignore it but the third time I say I'd better answer it. 

It's about the annuities - all good news. Could have waited but I imagined a Robin emergency.  

I notice there is never a time when I switch off. Like having a permanent night light on inside me so I'll be able to see the stairs in the dark. The ones I may have to climb at any moment. One step at a time.