Meet and few veg

I give thanks for getting through the trials of the night. The pain and precariousness of arrangements means bed is not a place of restful respite yet, but more of fear and dread. I give thanks for tackling the challenges of the day with some success here and there...

I give thanks for Mima bringing me some things I'd asked for, and some thoughtful things I'd not like flowers and chocolate to share. I give thanks for making it down the stairs to let her in - in retrospect! At the time it seemed like some crazy masochistic torture I put myself through, but it seems important not to feel that I can't, not to feel totally trapped and incapable.

I give thanks for a good old catch up natter, and for her washing up and clearing up the kitchen which somehow needed doing again even though Laura did it yesterday. I give thanks I'd attended to those tricksy medical chores, washed and dressed myself and thrown together some lunch before she arrived but after going down and up the stairs that was me done for for hours.

Naps are hard for the aforementioned reasons but I give thanks for just vegging out instead, finding things to watch on TV, including a dark Danish cop drama and another old unseen Midsomer Murders from when I must have had a life I guess. I give thanks for a couple of good documentaries yesterday too, about Skinheads and the stories behind some of the burials in New Churchyard. For a fussy viewer I've been quite well catered for of late! I give thanks for getting some easy supper and cooking a few veg in advance for some other meals too. Well that's the theory anyway...