Visiting

I’M PLEASED to see that Mike is looking so much better than when we last saw him, in hospital, and being at home again has done much to raise his spirits.

Finally, too, all the health organisations are giving him and Helen the support and assistance they both need – including all-night care and one of these fancy beds that can alter positions at the push of a button or two.

Not that all the departments are working in anything like harmony, of course – that would be too much to expect. At the moment, in fact, they seem to be falling over one another in their offers of help, while being uncooperative with each other.

Still, if their internecine squabbling produces the results that are required, who cares?

Anyhow, we pass an agreeable afternoon in our friends’ company, and we return home for our dinner – an unusual flop for My Good Lady, a vegetable curry that somehow fails to inspire either of us.

We watch a little telly this evening – I forget what – before MGL calls it an early night; the poor love is still drained from all the stresses and strains of the kitchen installation.

Who knows, I might even have an early night myself.