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The free wi-fi offered by the Granary Hotel turned out not to extend as far as our room, so I wasn't able to be online while we were away. Sorry about that. Sorry also to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aunty_marion, whose plans were honked up by this crisis.
So this is what happened.
We set off just after lunchtime, and made reasonable time. I wanted to get to the hotel first and scope the place out, but the Countess elected to go to her mother's first, so we did that, with the result that when we got to the place, after two or three stressful hours with the DC, it was after nine o'clock and dark. Turns out the Granary's idea of "disabled friendly" may be fine and dandy if your disability happens to be, say, deafness, but it took four of us, me and three helpful patrons, to winch the wheelchair up the ramp that is plainly used for wheeling trolleys of bottles into the pub, and there turned out to be steps absolutely everywhere. It also turned out that we needed to pay on arrival, so I pulled out the cash I had hoped would be spending money for the weekend and paid for the first night, intending to see if anywhere else might be available. Eventually I got Jan installed and the car parked about a hundred yards down the street where the double yellow lines stopped, and went foraging for food. Places were still open, though not the hotel's carvery to which I had been looking forward, and I got Jan a small pizza (since that's what she said she fancied) and me some fried chicken which was surprisingly good for an imitation. And we slept.
On Friday morning I rose early, because it being a double room Jan would have had no sleep for my snoring and thrashing, went and got some more cash, and drove around looking for alternative accommodation. Nothing presented itself, so I went back disconsolately and roused Jan for breakfast. Which was superb, rivalling the best con breakfasts I can remember. One thing I regret is that we never got to try their lunchtime or evening menus, and I hope to remedy that on future trips. In the light of day the room seemed a lot more welcoming than it had last night, though the shower was not usable by anyone not fully able, and I began to mellow, and once Jan had demonstrated that she could handle the steps with not too much difficulty I committed us to stay for the remaining two nights. And then off we pootled for another fun-filled day with the DC.
I won't bore you with the details of what's been going on, but the nub or crux of the matter was that someone (we never found out exactly which of the possible suspects was responsible) had made an appointment for the DC to see a doctor about "her Alzheimer's." This, of course, had bothered the DC and the Countess to a degree, since as far as we know, while deaf, manipulative, forgetful and infuriating, she does not have any form of dementia. The cousin whom we initially believed to have made the appointment denied all knowledge, and turned out not to be coming since the DC had told her we were, so I was left with the feeling that the football had been pulled away. We duly went to the surgery with her, and the doctor asked her a series of questions and concluded that she was "doing very well for her age" and dementia-free. Reassured, we returned to her place for some more shouting and stress, and eventually fought free and returned to the hotel to find it was live music night, the outfit involved being D.N.A., a three-piece who sounded competent but L*O*U*D. I did my famous food forage again, but was put off the fried chicken place by two drugnacious punks who were trying to pick a fight with each other in the doorway. Chicken balls and chips satisfied us both, and the music faded out around half past one, and again we slept.
I had had vague and phantasmal visions of having the next day to ourselves, but of course they were doomed to fade upon the air and leave not a wrack behind. We spent the morning taking the DC to visit a friend three doors down whom she hadn't seen for ages because it was too far (this is the lady who goes all round the village on her scooter) and Jan's cousin Maureen, whom *we* hadn't seen for ages and who is nice. And then we went to Wisbech and bought a couple of pork pies from G W Frank (who make the best pork pie I have ever tasted) and checked out some charity shops, and then had to race back in time to take the DC to mass, at which point the DC decided she was too tired, and so, having made a commitment to see Maureen there, we went. Jan hasn't been to mass for some years, for complicated reasons not having anything to do with my failure at being a Catholic, so she was quite keen. Sadly, the service suffered seriously from the lack of an organist (no, I did not volunteer) and the priest's insistence on spending most of his homily moaning about how overworked he was. And then back to the DC's place with Maureen and her friend Vivian who goes around administering the Eucharist to the housebound (not a woman priest, oh no, nothing like that around here) and then, after three happy hours trying to sort out the DC's jewellery box in the face of her strenuous assistance, back to the hotel, again too late to eat there, plus everything was closed. It was at this point that we discovered that, despite the Countess's entire post-breakfast food intake consisting of cream cakes, her blood sugar was lower than it had been for weeks. A striking illustration of the power of prayer, or a demonstration that a little of what you fancy does you good? You decide. I nibbled a sausage roll or two, eventually stopped my brain composing Rachmaninovesque variations on "Walk, Walk In The Light" which I would never be able to play, and the evening and the morning were the third day.
Sunday morning, and another excellent breakfast, and we checked out, packed the car, had another go-round with the DC and came away. I insisted on stopping for KFC as soon as possible, which was very nice, and the journey home went smoothly and without disruption.
On balance, it was a fairly productive trip. We've dispelled the spectre of Alzheimer's, put some things in place which, if they pan out, should ease some of the DC's worries (so she'll have to find some new ones to witter about) and in between had some good times. But it's nice to be home.
How's your weekend been?
aunty_marion, whose plans were honked up by this crisis.So this is what happened.
We set off just after lunchtime, and made reasonable time. I wanted to get to the hotel first and scope the place out, but the Countess elected to go to her mother's first, so we did that, with the result that when we got to the place, after two or three stressful hours with the DC, it was after nine o'clock and dark. Turns out the Granary's idea of "disabled friendly" may be fine and dandy if your disability happens to be, say, deafness, but it took four of us, me and three helpful patrons, to winch the wheelchair up the ramp that is plainly used for wheeling trolleys of bottles into the pub, and there turned out to be steps absolutely everywhere. It also turned out that we needed to pay on arrival, so I pulled out the cash I had hoped would be spending money for the weekend and paid for the first night, intending to see if anywhere else might be available. Eventually I got Jan installed and the car parked about a hundred yards down the street where the double yellow lines stopped, and went foraging for food. Places were still open, though not the hotel's carvery to which I had been looking forward, and I got Jan a small pizza (since that's what she said she fancied) and me some fried chicken which was surprisingly good for an imitation. And we slept.
On Friday morning I rose early, because it being a double room Jan would have had no sleep for my snoring and thrashing, went and got some more cash, and drove around looking for alternative accommodation. Nothing presented itself, so I went back disconsolately and roused Jan for breakfast. Which was superb, rivalling the best con breakfasts I can remember. One thing I regret is that we never got to try their lunchtime or evening menus, and I hope to remedy that on future trips. In the light of day the room seemed a lot more welcoming than it had last night, though the shower was not usable by anyone not fully able, and I began to mellow, and once Jan had demonstrated that she could handle the steps with not too much difficulty I committed us to stay for the remaining two nights. And then off we pootled for another fun-filled day with the DC.
I won't bore you with the details of what's been going on, but the nub or crux of the matter was that someone (we never found out exactly which of the possible suspects was responsible) had made an appointment for the DC to see a doctor about "her Alzheimer's." This, of course, had bothered the DC and the Countess to a degree, since as far as we know, while deaf, manipulative, forgetful and infuriating, she does not have any form of dementia. The cousin whom we initially believed to have made the appointment denied all knowledge, and turned out not to be coming since the DC had told her we were, so I was left with the feeling that the football had been pulled away. We duly went to the surgery with her, and the doctor asked her a series of questions and concluded that she was "doing very well for her age" and dementia-free. Reassured, we returned to her place for some more shouting and stress, and eventually fought free and returned to the hotel to find it was live music night, the outfit involved being D.N.A., a three-piece who sounded competent but L*O*U*D. I did my famous food forage again, but was put off the fried chicken place by two drugnacious punks who were trying to pick a fight with each other in the doorway. Chicken balls and chips satisfied us both, and the music faded out around half past one, and again we slept.
I had had vague and phantasmal visions of having the next day to ourselves, but of course they were doomed to fade upon the air and leave not a wrack behind. We spent the morning taking the DC to visit a friend three doors down whom she hadn't seen for ages because it was too far (this is the lady who goes all round the village on her scooter) and Jan's cousin Maureen, whom *we* hadn't seen for ages and who is nice. And then we went to Wisbech and bought a couple of pork pies from G W Frank (who make the best pork pie I have ever tasted) and checked out some charity shops, and then had to race back in time to take the DC to mass, at which point the DC decided she was too tired, and so, having made a commitment to see Maureen there, we went. Jan hasn't been to mass for some years, for complicated reasons not having anything to do with my failure at being a Catholic, so she was quite keen. Sadly, the service suffered seriously from the lack of an organist (no, I did not volunteer) and the priest's insistence on spending most of his homily moaning about how overworked he was. And then back to the DC's place with Maureen and her friend Vivian who goes around administering the Eucharist to the housebound (not a woman priest, oh no, nothing like that around here) and then, after three happy hours trying to sort out the DC's jewellery box in the face of her strenuous assistance, back to the hotel, again too late to eat there, plus everything was closed. It was at this point that we discovered that, despite the Countess's entire post-breakfast food intake consisting of cream cakes, her blood sugar was lower than it had been for weeks. A striking illustration of the power of prayer, or a demonstration that a little of what you fancy does you good? You decide. I nibbled a sausage roll or two, eventually stopped my brain composing Rachmaninovesque variations on "Walk, Walk In The Light" which I would never be able to play, and the evening and the morning were the third day.
Sunday morning, and another excellent breakfast, and we checked out, packed the car, had another go-round with the DC and came away. I insisted on stopping for KFC as soon as possible, which was very nice, and the journey home went smoothly and without disruption.
On balance, it was a fairly productive trip. We've dispelled the spectre of Alzheimer's, put some things in place which, if they pan out, should ease some of the DC's worries (so she'll have to find some new ones to witter about) and in between had some good times. But it's nice to be home.
How's your weekend been?