Monday 2nd December.
I was a good girl. Honest!
I took things nice and steady. I didn’t do anything to over
tax myself. I didn’t bend the doctor’s orders.
Well, not too much.
OK, I admit it, I did wash the kitchen floor. [It was really
dirty! Honestly!] I took three hours to do it and had a rest and sit when I
started to feel whacked out.
I had plenty of time to do things today as my visitors seemed
to have dried up. Last week they were like Sheffield buses; all of them arriving
at the same time! Today I had ‘nary a wun’ as my Gran would say. That’s
Scottish Gran, obviously. Perhaps I ought to have given them all timed and
dated tickets so I could have spread them all around. Never mind, I had books
to read, sewing to start, e-mails to send, Y!A etc etc.
However, after sitting
around for a few hours just watching the kitchen floor get dirtier and dirtier
by the second, I simply had to get up and clean the bugger.
Despite my not doing anything strenuous, when Laura came
home we had a huge row about me cleaning the kitchen floor. She sat down on a
dining chair and cried after we’d had a stupid shouting match. She pushed me
away when I tried to hug her, and stomped up the stairs saying, “I am going for
a shower!”
A few minutes later I went in the bathroom to talk to her.
She was sitting on the loo, drying between her toes. She stopped, gasped, stared
at me and started laughing.
While she was in the shower I had stripped down to my
undies, snuck out into the back garden and smeared myself all over with soil
from the raised beds. In my hair, up and down my legs and arms, over my front
and face. I had even tried to smear my back with dirt but misjudged the
position of the bed a bit and might have scratched it instead on the wall. I
didn’t mess up the soles of my feet that would have made the house a mess, and
I didn’t want that.
“I’ll stay like this all night if you want, just to show you
how sorry I am!”
I was hoping like buggery she wouldn’t say yes because I was
beginning to get really twitchy about being so messy. I tried to hide it, but I
am sure she must have realised how horrible I felt being dirty, never mind
having upset her so much. I think she might have had an inkling of my inner torment…
“Go and make me a cup of tea and I will consider my position!”
I scurried back down the stairs and did as she asked.
Two mugs of Empress Earl Grey on a stainless steel tray
winged their way to the bathroom, where Laura’s position was now back in the
shower. “Get in!” So I did. She hugged me despite the dirt and we kissed for
what seemed like ages with the shower playing over us both. We both washed my
hair, which was absolutely gopping! When she started attacking my stained limbs
with the loofah mitt she couldn’t help smiling.
“You scared me last week. I don’t want you to be ill. You
mustn’t be so stubborn about stuff like that. Bugs won’t be intimidated by your
‘sarcastic, over-educated, smart mouthed, ball-breaking little cow’ approach to
life… …did I miss any out?”
“Stuck up? Stupid? Perhaps?”
“One of the many things I love about you is the way you
refuse to do what people expect or want, but when it’s the doctor telling you to
do stuff, you must!”
“I know. But… in my head I don’t feel ill. It’s just that I
feel so bloody helpless doing nothing. I have to do a tiny, weeny, little bit,
at least?”
“No you don’t. Rest means REST. R E S T. Rest! Not rest between dusting the picture
rails or cleaning out the gutters, or repainting the eves! Rest, you idiot
means…. You’ve grazed your back!”
“Rest means I’ve grazed my back? I thought it meant not
dusting the pic….”
“Stop it! Or I’ll lose this loofah somewhere you wouldn’t
like me to lose it!”
“Oh bugger. I probably did it when I was trying to lie down
on the soil of raised bed… I missed.”
“How can you miss a four foot wide, twelve foot long patch
of earth?”
“It takes skill, I can tell you. And a hell of a lot of
sarcastic, over-educated, smart mouthed, ball-breaking, stupid little cowiness
too! “
She gave me a thorough wash. We then dried ourselves off
together.
We were half expecting to get a call from one our
neighbours… “Is everything alright? I thought I saw…” but we didn’t. Plus, it
was quite dark by the time I went al fresco body painting. And pretty chilly
out there.
We had our dinner and Laura zoomed down to the restaurant
asking if I was going to behave or did I need handcuffing to the radiator? I
told her I’d prefer being handcuffed to the bed again, and she said she’d do
that when I was better. Mmmm….
Tuesday 3rd December.
I woke up with me underneath Laura’s shoulder with her hand
clutched against my heart. How long we’d lain like that I have no idea. My PJs
were not soaked with sweat and I felt a bit like my old self again. I was so
much like my usual self I let my fingers wander inside Laura’s shorts. I
thought she was asleep, but she muttered, “Don’t start something you can
finish…” I started! She finished! Quite noisily for her, she is usually pretty
restrained when the big O rolls in, but this morning she let rip.
I giggled, “Well, that will have woken the neighbours…”
Her reply was, “See if you can do better!” I was going to
try, but instead I let the sensations engulf me.
When she got back from the dog walk and swimming I had made
breakfast [bacon butties] and had news. “Mum phoned. No, there’s no problem.
She’s dropping by this morning. Then immediately afterwards Dad phoned, they
have just crossed the German border. They should be here on schedule.”
“Are they colluding, do you think?”
Laura left for Uni and I had two more calls. One from
Kaybers, and one from Mandy, both wanting to know how I was. I told Kaybers the
saga of the cleaned floor which she thought was hilarious. She said she always
thought I was a dirty little girl. I just told Mandy I was feeling a bit better
and that I’d be back in on Monday.
That seemed to disappoint her and cheer her
up in equal measure.
Mum dropped by at 9.30. How can you drop by from Holmesfield
to Oughtibridge? We are at opposite sides of the City! She wanted to explain
about Tim. I told her there was no need to explain anything, she was my Mum and
therefore old enough to do what she wanted, without needing my permission.
[LOL] I wasn’t the person who needed to
know anything, really. She agreed but wanted to tell me about Tim anyway. She
thought after our frank convos in Australia this summer, I would be OK with
that. I am.
So she did. I am not going into the details but I see where
she is coming from. She told me that she hasn’t healed up down below [MUM!] and
still wants the occasional sex. I think I would like to be sexually active when
I’m sixty too. She is lucky that she is still attractive enough for a man to
want to have sex with her, too. I didn’t tell her that. [I bet he wouldn’t mind
fucking her daughter, as well. I have seen the way he looks at me…]
I told her Dad was coming later on, with the wine, and I’d
let her have her cases asap. She always asks me to get extra, just for her, so
she doesn’t have to feel grateful to Dad. I can sort of understand that. I was
surprised the fact that Dad had a twenty years younger bride into whom he can
hide his sausage wasn’t brought up in our chat, but I am sure the idea was
lurking in there somewhere. I think it was more the thought that he had MARRIED
Louisa, rather than just have sex with her which had got Mum so wound up last
year.
Mum left at about 11.30. She must have handed the baton on
to Feli who appeared at almost the moment she’d left. In fact I asked her if
she’d seen Mum, but she hadn’t. I realised I was being stupid when I looked at
the clock, it was 1.15! I had dropped off for about almost two hours. Almost
better? Ha!
She had zoomed over during her lunch break to see me as Loll
had met her and told her about our row. I had another ear bashing from my
French chum, telling me almost the same things that Laura had, last night! I explained that I had learned my lesson and
was going to be a sensible girl from now on.
She said she doubted whether I would ever be sensible and
kissed me. I mean a real proper, lover’s kiss! I pulled away and she said,
“Don’t worry, I am just showing you I love you and that I want you to get
better. I am not going to make love to you.” Presumptuous madam! “You wouldn’t
let me if I wanted to, anyway. But I thought that it would let you know that I
value you as my friend and Yes, I do love you. You are ma sœur!”
I think I get what she means. I just hope she
doesn’t show it by kissing me again. I may forget myself.
Foolishly, I asked her if she’d like to come with Laura and
me when we next went up to Dad’s. [Erm.. Memo to brain! Think before you
speak!] She thought it could be lovely. I explained that there are plenty of
bedrooms and the Lake District is only a spit away. She has no idea what the Lake
District is. So it should be an eye opener for her, if she takes up my offer.
She loved the design for the next casket embroidery. She is
embarrassed by her lack of sewing skills. I explained that I had been doing it
for so long I had not even registered it as anything special, it is just
something I did. In fact I don’t usually mention it all, when I come to think
of it.
I had a go at the Times crossword after Feli had gone. 25
minutes! That is pretty poor. Maybe my brain is fogged by the illness. That’ll
be the reason! LOL.
At about four I had a surprise visit from Jane and the Kids.
The kids’ school had a training day and had wanted to go Christmas Shopping at
Meadow Hall. Then they wanted to pop in to see Aunt Vicki and show her the next
baby pictures. So that was what they’d done.
Like a prat I believed it until, spot on time, in rolled the
Aged Parent and step mum! Wanted to pop in and show Aunt Vicki the next baby
pictures? Yeah, right. Dad didn’t even feign surprise he just asked if she
wanted the wine putting in her car! Phil bought 24 bottles [4 cases] just to show
willing. I had 24 cases on order, of course 4 were for Mum. Dad and I moved P
& Js wine into her car and then wheeled my pile round to my back door on my
garden trolley. I let Dad carry them down into the cellar, where I arranged
them by grape variety in my cupboard. My 144 bottles cost me £150! Hilmar is a
saint. He only charges Dad £1 per bottle! Dominic’s lot (another 4 cases) were
charged at £5 per bottle as he isn’t family!
I made copies of all the ultra sound discs for Dad and one
of the latest for me and Mum. Lollster arrived just as Jane was leaving so they
had a few brief words while Dad, Louisa and I sorted out the spare bedroom for
them both. They are only staying overnight; breaking the long journey from
Cochem to Cumbria.
Also in the car the wonderful aged P. had brought two huge
seafood platters from Auchan which they’d
bought before boarding the shuttle.
Dad and I were relegated into the lounge while Lou and Loll prepared our
dinner. I told him about the row over me cleaning the kitchen floor and he just
laughed. Apparently I was a “Bloody Nightmare” when I was ill as a child. This
was news to me but Dad insisted it was the case. I have a suspicion he may be
lying! He said if Laura was standing up to my foolish neuroses then she was an
angel as far as he was concerned. Somebody needed to stand up to me full stop.
End of.
I hit him with my cushion and he hit me with his; and we had
a cushion fight which only ended when I had a major coughing fit. Laura came in
to see what the matter was, to find Dad whacking me with the flat of his hand
in the middle of my back and me yelling, “Ouch! That’s not helping!” She went
back to the kitchen and missed my pearl of a backhanded bolster flick which
caught Dad full square on the nose. Being a bolster it was a bit denser than an
ordinary cushion and it produced a prodigious stream of blood from his
proboscis!
It was a good job there was a box of tissues on the coffee table.
This time they both came in from the Kitchen. They didn’t
say anything, just gave us the Paddington Bear treatment. I am used to this so I just clammed up but
Dad started bleating, “It was Attila the Hunstress here. She whacked me with a
house brick, cleverly disguised as a cushion. Right on the end of my nose.”
“Yes but why? Oh bleeding father mine! Why?”
“Because you were having a coughing fit to hide the fact you
were losing the cushion fight! Oh whoops!”
Dad and daughter in the dog house?
Luckily the bleeding father didn’t get any spots on my
furniture, or carpets, only in a handful [or two handfuls] of tissues. Also
luckily Lou and Loll didn’t get annoyed or angry, which I was sort of
expecting. Instead they seemed to find our childish behaviour quite funny and a
bit silly and [rather sadly] totally to be expected.
When we were called through to the kitchen Dad had a wodge
of tissue up the offending nostril which looked obscenely like one of the
tampons which, I claimed earlier on, were stuffed up my nose! Because I was an
invalid Dad insisted I be taken through to the kitchen on his back, piggy back.
[I think he did that just to continue the childishness. It used to annoy Mum no
end, but Louisa seems immune to it!]
As you’d expect from the French the selection of seafood was
extensive and the taste gorgeous. We had some of my last year’s Riesling to
wash it down and then a bottle of my GMP Dornfelder to finish. Yummy in our
Tummies!
By about 9.30pm Dad was feeling done in, so he retired to
bed leaving Louisa and I to chat in the lounge as we waited for Laura to get
back from work. She said she was so envious of the relationship Dad and I had.
She wished she and her Dad could mess about like kids the way that we do. I
told her I had always seen Dad as a big brother rather than a Dad. We had been
silly from almost the moment I started to talk. I think the rock climbing and
sailing were what bonded us together more closely than most Dad / daughter
relationships. Plus, the way I could always be trusted to seem a little adult
when the occasion demanded rather than a little child helped too..
She said she had been told about the Formal Dinners at Dad’s
Uni, and my wowing the Head of the History Faculty with my knowledge of Julius Caesar and
Alesia aged 6! She told me I was like a female version of him in lots of ways.
[I am not sure whether that was a compliment or not.]
She loved visiting Hilmar and the extended family. It opened
up a new aspect of Dad’s life and personality for her. I explained that once
she’d seen the Australian side of the family she would truly appreciate what
makes Dad Dad! She is looking forward to going so much. I don’t blame her.
Annabelle has told her masses about me and the things we did during our summer,
when they have skyped with Susannah and Co. She believes that the fact that Annabelle
loves me so much and is full of my praise says a huge amount about my character
and personality. [Is she after something? I wondered.]
Laura arrived at about 11.10 and had Dominic’s money for the
wine. He was so pleased with it. She promptly went off again taking Callie for
a walk. Louisa retired for the night, I waited until Laura returned and we hit
the charp together. What a day!
Wednesday 3rd December.
After Laura had walked Callie and been swimming, I asked Dad
if we could come up this weekend. He was fine with it. I asked if I could bring
Felice, he was fine with that too. Rah rah rah. Laura said she’d ask Felice if
she wanted to come with us. [I just hoped Mandy wasn’t around when she asked.]
Dad and Louisa left at about 10am. I got a text at 1 o’clock
from Dad to let me know they’d got home safely.
Today I was left alone again. No callers, not a visitor.
Peace and quiet.
I read some more of my current book – the fifth Jasper
Fforde. Did the first stitches on the casket’s second embroidery. Slowly
prepped and then set the evening meal going.
That was it.
No washing, nothing strenuous. Just Vicki being a good girl
all day.
Laura said Felice would love to come. She’ll follow Laura
home on Friday and leave her car on our front garden. It makes sense to have
just one car.
Little does she know Dad is planning a small do on Saturday
night to finish off the remnants of last year’s wine. These are always good “do”s.
No one is allowed to bring wine, so the guests bring food instead. It is great.
My uneventful day does make for a boring diary entry though!
Thursday December 4th.
Wow. The wind. Phewee Musky!
Laura came back this morning battered and buffeted by the
gales blowing outside. Callie was really hyper. The wind makes her a bit mad.
She was keen to go out again after Laura had gone, so we went to the end of the
garden and I ball-wanged into the field for her until she was whacked out and my
arm felt as though it was going to drop off!! She then spent the rest of the
morning sprawled in front of the stove and getting up for a drink, then wanting
to go out for a wee!
More reading, sewing, chilling and being a good girl again
today. I think it is the lack of proper physical things to do that tightens my
spring. I will be so glad when I can go and run and jump and dance and sing
again.
Had calls from Kaybers and Felice and Mandy and Philip and
Mum and Mr Carr. He was enquiring about my health [he said] and whether I’d be
back next week. I assured him I would. I thought after that I’d better contact
the uni, too. I got through to the faculty office and told them the situation.
I have a doctor’s note to hand in when I get back; a form to fill in and a
fitness to work interview! What the f*ck?! Apparently it is just procedure.
Sounds like a load of bollocks to me.
In the afternoon as the sun came out, we went and sat in
conservatory, which gets sun from about noon. It got really warm in there, which
was a stark contrast to the weather outside!
By tea time the wind was getting silly. Laura reported
branches down along the main road on her way home.
Nothing big, but if it keeps
this up….
We had the radio news on at 10 and heard about Nelson
Mandela. Not exactly a shock but sad all the same. Laura said she bet he’d been
dead for weeks and they’d pretended he was still OK. How cynical for someone so
young?
I really do feel much better. I was trying to beat the
illness and of course it beat me back instead. When I went with the flow,
rather than raging against it, things seemed to right themselves naturally.
That was what I had been told, of course, but I am such a stubborn baggage at
times.
No work tonight for Laura so we had an early night. I may be
on the road to recovery but I was still out like a light when I finally put my
head to the pillow.
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