A quiet Saturday

When I wake up at seven, there is a text from Hanne, she is waiting to see the consultant, feels OK and expects to be discharged. I reply offering to pick her up, but she says she doesn't need a lift. I after breakfast, I put some jeans and a casual jacket on to wash and then make a full English for Myself and Normy, after first putting more drops in his eyes, which already seem a little better. Later I modify the wicker basket bought in Hull so that I can take Norman on my bike. The metal hooks won't fit over the handlebars, but with some minor engineering adjustment, I am able to affix it securely to the rear pannier. It means I will have to be careful not to kick the basket or Norman when mounting and dismounting but He adjusts rapidly to his new mode of transportation, particularly when I place a small cushion in the bottom for extra comfort. Any idea of cycling to the Poppy Seed is dispelled by a sudden shower, so we drive to Norwood, park in our usual place and then walk into town. The shower has passed but the weather remains cool and overcast but there are still lots of folk about the town for market day. Felicity is tucking into a toasted teacake when we arrive and we are soon joined by the rest of the gang, Barbara, Jill and Rosemary, none of whom are aware of Hanne's trip to Hull Royal and so I promise to keep them informed when there is further news. Felicity perks up amongst her friends, she has been down in the dumps of late because of having to give up her dogs and I fear she may be on the same trajectory of despondency that overtook Leslie towards the end of his life. By half past eleven she is tired and has had enough, so I walk back to the car and drive round the one way circuit to the cafe. The traffic made worse by the closure of the road into Saturday Market, while the surface is being refurbished. After collecting Felicity and Norman, I drive her home via Walkington, across the Westwood and back, a detour of four miles to get to Albert Terrace, which is less than a quarter mile from the Poppy Seed, but quicker than enduring the nose to tail traffic round the one way circuit. I see the old girl safely into her house and then have to drive off as it was necessary to double park in order to set her down by her front door. Her mobility is declining steadily and I feel it is only a matter if time before she will need residential care, although I hope I am mistaken. We drive home and take our luck with the weather by hanging out my jeans and jacket on the line and then sitting down at my desk to sort through the backlog of paperwork. The most urgent job is completing the list of Swimathon sponsors and enclosing a cheque for Marie Curie. The final total is £138 and this includes ten pounds I have put in, pending Tania's return from holiday on Monday. Everything is now filed into its proper plastic wallet and once I have placed the files in a box, the desk can be dismantled and taken to the tip. The front room is now covered in boxes, pending the arrival of the new furniture, but I tend to use the Garden Room mostly and can shut the door on the mess and forget it for the weekend. We lunch on lamb pittas with salad and Haloumi cheese and then spend a quiet afternoon and evening reading, breaking every couple of hours to make tea and administer Norman's eye drops. He likes to sleep on my chest while I read and snores gently and contentedly until bedtime.