2007 — 23 September: slo-mo Sunday (vernal equinox)...
If you discount my quick dash out for a litre of cow juice to tide us over and keep our tea flowing smoothly. She is right now (11:35) out at the side1 of the house busily trimming stuff from an overhanging bush to diminish the falling leaf workload in months to come (see, I wouldn't think of that 'cos I was only barely aware of the existence of this bush in the first place). Amazing woman, my wife.
She's now resting peacefully on the bed catching up with yesterday's Guardian supplements and awaiting her lunch, which I shall start on at the end of the jazz track (Blood count) by Billy Strayhorn that's just been chosen by Barry Fantoni. (The cartoonist associated with Private Eye since 1963, for heaven's sake.)
I'm also truly delighted to report that it's now approaching 36 hours without break-through pain, which is wonderful. Plus, as She acclimatises to the higher level of morphine, so Her mental confusion has been steadily improving. I am — or, at least, I like to kid myself that I am — no fool2, but I have always regarded Christa as my intellectual superior in many respects. This is bonus goodness.
Freak Zone
BBC's digital 6Music channel is now (17:15 or so) tinkling away in the background. We've got back from a walk in the drizzle that deterred us not one whit, and are now doing our separate bits of world-class pottering, which is what we do best and enjoy as much as almost anything else. While gently pondering the question of an evening meal as background cerebration I'm also having a bit (a lot, actually) of a de-clutter session in what I laughingly refer to as the study. I have an entire roll of black plastic rubbish sacks, and it's my ambition to fill them all. If nothing else, that should reduce the risk of my death by crushing under tottery columns of "stuff". Plus — let us not forget — the Antiques Roadshow is also being broadcast on the BBC's High-Definition satellite channel tonight. Does it get any better than this? I think not!