'Twas another Bank Holiday Monday and Dad had come into my room, after our housework and I'd rested awhile and he'd had his coat on: “I'm going to the bank, then the doctor's...”
It had been then that I'd reminded him with a light grin, Do you know what day it is?”
“Monday?”
“A Bank Holiday Dad.”
“And that means?”
“They're closed...”
“Why?”
“The clue is in the name Dad, it's a Bank Holiday...”
And talking of banks...
I had crossed the road and made my way to the health shop over the road, from where I'd been doing business, which I'd not been able to for hours, due to the rain and my damn guts.
I'd got a taxi to the village as soon as I'd been able to, still irked that I'd had to go out at all, because as the fellow in the Health Shop had said to me, in agreement to my annoyance, “I've now joined the the twentieth century, or the twentieth century that is...”
I'd got myself a current account, to pay the phone-bill, as a form of I.D. amongst other things, so that I'd be able to pay the others, once my Father's passed.
And that's what had started it all off... My Dad had been talking about his death and, what needed to be done yet again and, I realised that my lack of I.D. would mean difficulty when trying to make probate for my Dad, when I needed to... so enquiry had been made, as I made an effort to learn what to do... and the first been I'd needed to do was apply for a current account, with which I'd be able to pay direct debits, as I'd need to do, once my Father had passed.
I'd not had a great day before leaving the house and, the confusion I'd found through doing business had been preferable to staying where I had been and what had been done... That is the way it is ofttimes, my complaints deciding for me when I actually can get out, to meet the appointments I might have... and, that can be irritating at times. Yet I will not complain on the way of my day, as I'm still able to do as I do, for my Father and myself; as needed, when needed.
On the weekend last I'd committed the ultimate act of stupidity, while tired and working on my laptop, accidentally deleting a folder and its contents, many of them being Doctor Who Audio. The act itself led me to promising myself I'll never work on a laptop when tired, ever again.
I did get some gardening done, mainly around the right hand corner of the beech hedge at the back, with rivulets of blood running down my right arm testament to me removing some ivy as I worked. It's always the same with the beech hedge. I do wish it would realise I was trying to be helpful...
Come the Monday I saw to my business, trying to obtain the opportunity to pay my Father's BT phone bill. It took hours, being shoved from one person to another, until finally I'd got a version of what I wanted. And, all of that had taken me several hours and been as irritating as hell. Truth be told, there had been moments through the day when I'd thought everything and everyone had something against me...
Then prior to thinking of my intended walk, I saw a letter on the hall mat, from my doctor. The letter had been informing me of the results of my scan at the royal, a few months earlier. It seems the 6mm tear on my pancreas is no worse, while my spine down at my lumbar area... is near to breaking... that meant a phonecall to my doctor and explanations sought.
Then on the Tuesday I decided to have a go at hoovering my rooms carpet and discovered just how dangerous housework can be, when I dropped the portable hoover onto my right foot, with a corner landing onto the third toe from the left.
Well by housework Thursday I'd found the courage to remove my sock, to see if it needed that I'd pay it some attention. It did look as good, or bad, as I'd expected. I hadn't done anything more to it, other than clean any sock fluff away from the wound.
Since I lost the folder of favourite audio's, I've managed to acquire some 'new' stuff to hold my attention, in this case the one that has got to me bestest, is an audiobook, 'Adrian's Undead Diary', which is a kind of cross between a zombie apocalypse story and, the diary of adrian mole.
It's gripped me, like few teevee shows have ever done... and, I'm hoping I can get the rest of the parts, dash chapters of it that I can, as I like it as much I do.
I had to add that, as I'm listening to another segment of the story as I type. It's excellent... and, partly through the excellent reading, or perhaps because the story is so well-written, I found that I've imbued a great deal of empathy with the character of Adrian Ring, whose story I've been listening to.
I have managed to obtain the whole story - thank frell! The reader is very good. And, it turns out the 'book' started on the internet. I am stoked I've discovered Adians Undead Diary: I haven't given up on Dr Who Audio... btw. dear old BBC have done some excellent James Bond and Philip Marlowe.
I did see something really cool the other day when I was making Dad's bed, several Blackbirds shooing away a magpie from our back garden. I've heard of that happening when the Magpies get to near a nest. So that suggests a nest in the Beech Hedge in the back garden...
COMMENTS
-
Crowscat
23:39 Jun 01 2019
I love reading about you and your day. You write everything with such detail, I can visualize it clearly:) You should take a trip to your special place. It sounds like you might want to venture there soon :)