Good Mates

The weather was cool, grey and wet this morning, and I was home alone.  30% had a very early appointment at the hospital in Kidderminster, so I was left in charge of the house and pets.

After checking out the weather, I made an executive decision and our normal exercise routine was cancelled; instead we had a literary morning, and I finally finished Terry Pratchett's Small Gods.*

Guilt then set in, and I headed to the kitchen, where I attempted to assuage these feelings by making the room look less like a blender explosion had just happened.

30% arrived home shortly before lunch and reported that all was well. She was very complimentary about the service received from the NHS, and we are both rapidly coming to the conclusion that parts of the NHS work brilliantly, and wonder why the rest is so appalling?

My afternoon was spent in the company of Grandad Jack.  We had attempted to link up with Judge Dread too, but he had bailed; claiming a leg injury or some such Southern Softy nonsense! Instead, Jack pitched up here and we spent a pleasant few hours drinking tea, talking nonsense, playing illness Top Trumps,** and taking a tour of the garden and sheds.

Jack left laden with eggs and honey. He later reported, via the medium of WhatsApp, that our eggs must have health giving qualities as he had managed to eat two of them for his breakfast. This is the first time that he has eaten this much since his treatment started.***

It was lovely to see Jack, who, for some strange reason, seems to enjoy coming over here, being leapt upon by the dogs and having the piss taken out him mercilessly by me.

We both agreed that we should do it more often.

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* I know! I really do need to broaden my literary choices.

** Jack won, he has just been given the all clear after cancer treatment!

*** This is brilliant news as he is still having problems eating as a result of the radiotherapy treatment to his neck and throat