2010 — 19 June: Saturday
As I was saying, I was rather sleepy. So I hit the sack and was spark out before 23:00. Next thing I knew it was 05:00 which is not a civilised time for, well, anything other than a dawn raid. Now (08:57) with a cuppa and some of Brian Matthew's musical choices, I'm better equipped to face the (surprisingly chilly, post-rain) day.
Peas in a pod?
Contained in an overnight email1 from the other side of the planet came Big Bro's latest picture. Separated by six years and 12,000 miles for the last 40 years, I confess Big Bro now looks a lot more like our various uncles than I do. Perhaps I was a late gypsy substitute2 as a baby? (Or mislabelled in the prem incubator, at least.)
I've taken the diabolical liberty of using Photoshop's "Auto-fix" to remove the warm indoor aviation museum colour cast but nothing else. This is, he tells me, his most recent "author" shot for a new book. (Wonder if he's caught my total up yet?)
Compare and contrast this some 56 years ago. The sweet caresses of Time, heh? :-)
Time (09:40) for breakfast and a healthy cuppa. (Tea and coffee, according to a new Dutch survey, both protect against heart trouble.)
We bring this on ourselves
Until we stop letting elderly religious lords with their imaginary friend have the final say in the great euthanasia debate, we'll continue to see sad cases like this. Society is only too happy to opt out of the decision and then come down like a righteous ton of bricks on the hapless medico at the sharp end. Disgraceful. I don't doubt the chap was "arrogant, single-minded and autocratic". That actually doesn't make him wrong.
I wasn't pleased that Christa had to be floated gently away on a cloud of morphine in full accordance with both her and my wishes. But I was delighted and relieved to see her suffering brought to an end. And it sure as hell beat the screams of agony there would otherwise have been. (I had to hear those occasionally and I would have done anything to avert them.) Hell! Most family pets get to die with more dignity than some family members. The law must change.
Having just set up a...
... minimalist, but functional, hi-fi system in the study and reconnected it with the audio feed from downstairs (a chap needs decent music while he works in the adjacent room) I can now set about stripping the old carpet out of, and then cleaning, poly-filla-ing a few cracks in, and repainting the walls of, what was latterly Christa's study. Step one along the path of its eventual transformation into a book-filled library. (Maybe I will take up pipe-smoking, too.) This is actually quietly exciting. It's 11:39 and I have recently said a few unkind words about non-bayonet loudspeaker terminals. But my split thumbnail was growing out in any case.
So, in another of Life's many amusing "firsts" since being left behind in the race to death, I'm now well-equipped (thank you, Jennifer, in B&Q) to deal with the "library" room, as I shall now refer to it. I've never before bought all the needed stuff without my inhouse decorator on hand... It's 13:50 and I shall poly-filla the cracks then grab some lunch before cracking open the paint. [Pause] Lunch hastily lunched, I have time to note that painting is the one topic not explicitly dealt with by any of the DIY pamphlets on the extensive rack in B&Q. I take that to mean it's so simple even I will be able to manage it. Right, let's crack open the Dulux3 "Rose white" and get busy. It's now 14:57 so the white gunk (a quick-drying generic variant of Poly-Filla) should be dry enough to paint over by the time I get to it.
One coat nearly completed. A bit of fine detailing where the roller brush refuses to go and that should be it. It's 16:31 and if I want to apply a second coat I'm going to have to buy a second "tin" too (it's a plastic pot, these days). Mega-boring, even with Weekend Woman's Hour burbling away. [Pause] Now, at 18:17, I've just cleaned out the roller, and the brush, but decided to junk the plastic roller tray and buy another equally cheap one for the next room. The "up to 32 m2" coverage claimed on the tin was just sufficient. Mind you, I didn't realise indoor matt emulsion had the viscosity of semi-set blancmange these days. Amazing. So, there you are, Christa: one freshly repainted room down, several to go!
Me? Depressed?
Roger, who called in on me regularly in the weeks immediately after Christa's death — partly to make sure I hadn't done anything too stupid — phoned a few minutes ago as he felt today's diary suggests I'm depressed. I don't think I am, though I'll admit to mildly-raised stress levels at the moment :-) I've also had a chat with dear Mama's neighbour, but the assessment(s) is/are ongoing. I console myself with the thought that I'd rather have her in hospital than trying to cope in her home by herself.
But I'm certainly hungry. That's my next task.
Later
It's 22:09 and I've just finished cleaning up what is now an empty room. Unsticking bits of rotten old carpet underlay from the floorboards was surprisingly time-consuming, but it's all in a good cause. Then it was time to connect up the ADSL modem and the in-house router to bring the downstairs PC back online. This update is, as it were, the proof point. I hope Brian's skip has room for a rolled-up old carpet (complete with permanent lump of chewing gum).
The last of Christa's ashes are now in her beloved garden, rather than just "looking down" on it from the newly-painted windowsill of her study. And it's well past time for my next cuppa. In fact the first one won't even touch the sides.