Day three

[avevale_intelligencer]

We awoke in the guest room on Wednesday, and after I had gone back to the graveyard and put some fresh flowers on her Dad and Violet's graves (pausing only to note the big sign that said, among other things, "NO ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS"; the fact that this stern decree was obviously being widely ignored may have had something to do with the fact that it was issued by the "Perochial District Council," or maybe I'm just being a pedantic smartarse) and delivered the DC's hospital discharge paper (which she flatly denied being given) to the local pharmacy, we went over to the DC's place to find her being given Communion by the local priest. Usually cousin Maureen and a friend of hers do this on Saturday evenings, so whether this was a result of the DC's conviction that she was on the way out we don't know. As he left, another car drew up outside and proved to contain Jan's uncle Frank and cousin Anthony from Bradford, who had come down to see how the DC was doing. It was nice to see uncle Frank, especially as he seems in a lot poorer health than the DC; we're now wondering if there's any way we can make it up there for a visit before too much longer.

We dined on fish and chips (this is a biggish thing, because Jan usually can't stand fish, but she quite enjoyed it this time; Sutton Bridge is one of a very few places, including Porthmadog, Scarborough and Glastonbury, where she's found a palatable piece of cod) and chatted of this and that. I had put a new battery into the DC's hearing aid and made her put it in, and she was therefore much better able to hear what was going on (and obviously didn't like it much). Things got a bit fraught when the woman-next-door-who-walks-through-walls motif recurred, so I hid in the kitchen and washed up.

And finally we tore ourselves away and I drove home. The only problematic bit was between Marlborough and Semington, where we encountered a tractor driving a hugely overloaded trailer of straw at twenty miles an hour along the main road at half past ten at night, but this too passed (or we passed it, anyway) and we got back at about midnight to a house full of cat poo and hungry cats,

And that was the latest trip to Lincolnshire. Stay tuned for further thrilling adventures as we finally submit the form to get her transferred to a bungalow down here only to find she's changed her mind again.

PS: it did occur to me that if Sutton Bridge is a perish rather than a parish this might have something to do with the wind off the North Sea, but I can't be sure.

Comments

[lexin.livejournal.com]

All this sounds very worrying, and my thoughts are with you and Jan.