my lovely adopted mum A is failing, she needs me to take her to the hospital for a hearing test. Every day we talk on facetime and by her own admission she is getting weaker. For her to admit this is a major milestone. All through these last eighteen months of chronic tummy problems she has battled on. My love and respect for her knows no bounds. We talk about death, husband is a good man, he didn’t miss a beat when I suggested to him we should look after her affairs when she dies. A tricky task as what little money she has she wants us to siphon off to her son in small amounts as he has lots of mental health issues. He lives in a hostel in London after years of living rough. A. thinks he will
put a large amount on the 2.30 at Newmarket, that or give it away! We have interesting times ahead.
On a brighter note, I am out of the way when the chatty tiler man cometh! A result! As they say in South London.
The floor last night, ready for the tiles.