I think today’s blog could be called Reflections on My Day. Bear with me, won’t you?
The most exciting moment
came on the Pulse bus where the bus inspector boarding the vehicle spotted a notice that suggested that our bus had been employed on Route 17 between Horsham and Brighton. This was All Wrong, he declared, because head office had decreed that Pulse buses were
only ever to be used in Worthing. He removed the offending notice with the considerable flourish of one who believes he is Righting A Wrong. I know what you are thinking: is this really as exciting as my day gets? Hold on, it gets worse before it gets better...
The most soul-destroying moment of my day came when I trailed back to the local chemist for the third time in the same number of days to find they still hadn’t dispensed
the correct nicotine patches for Mr B. As usual neither GP surgery nor pharmacy is prepared to accept the blame for the mistake. Considering how vocally disapproving everyone has been about Mr B’s 61 years of smoking, you would think they would go to
the ends of the earth to support him in quitting the Evil Weed. He deserves better than this.
The most internationally significant moment of the day came when
the Youngest of the Darling Daughters, on holiday with her fella as an early celebration of his significant birthday (as in, one with an 0 at the end of it) sent her sister and me a video of the outlook from the rooftop bar of their hotel. “Worse places
to be!” she commented. I immediately sent back a photo of Mr B at the dinner table, raising a glass in a toast to her. “Worse places to be!” I responded. The Middle of the Darling Daughters, not to be outdone, sent a selfie of herself, cuddled
up on the sofa with the Twinkles, plus a photo of The Rascal, a smile on his face to melt the hardest of hearts. “Worse places to be!” she wrote, predictably.
The most disappointing moment of the day came when, on my return from my trip to the chemist, it started to rain. I had been promising myself an enjoyable afternoon in the garden, once I’d finished my chores for the day. I kept a weather eye on
the, well, weather all afternoon but it failed to improve. All I could do was to accept that the plants would probably appreciate the rain more than they would welcome my not-so-very-green-fingered attentions.
The most welcome moment of the day came when Matt and Jackie from Next Door accepted our invitation to join us watching Brighton play Liverpool on TV tomorrow afternoon. It will probably be a challenge and a half for the Seagulls
but we are not Fair Weather Supporters, no not we - and we can, at the very least, raise a glass, or a bottle, or a mug of coffee to toast the fact that they will be staying up in the Premier League next season.
The most frustrating moment of the day came in a conversation with Martin from a few doors along who, in asking solicitously after Mr B’s health, asked if we managed to get out and about much. I had to admit that, on
account of my weak wrists and problem shoulder, I wasn’t able to push Mr B’s wheelchair any distance. Regular readers will remember that on our first outing with our power caddy, I failed miserably to steer the wheelchair over the uneven pavements,
leading Mr B to complain bitterly that I nearly killed him on several occasions when I steered him rather too near the edge of the pavement. It is a source of immense frustration that I am such a failure at this.
Then, the most heart-warming moment of the day. Relating my conversation with Martin to Mr B, I despaired that it was because of me that he was unable to enjoy as much of the Great Outdoors as we both would like. He didn’t
hesitate to put me right.
“It’s because of you I’m still here,” he retorted.
It was the very best moment of my day.