As I drove back from the hospital this morning (I shall explain in due course), I was greeted with the familiar sight of the Pyrénées rising above the sun-kissed vines that spread across this area of France. Denis thinks it’s all a bit samey and rather boring to look at every day but I could never tire of it. There is something so peaceful, grounding perhaps, about being surrounded by such luscious greenery especially on the morning run as the sun rises. And if the past week was anything to go by, I’ve needed a bit of nature’s nurturing.
With Denis in quarantine over at his house, me and the workshop became one. Frankly, Callum would probably faint if he saw the chaos in his once meticulously arranged space but having most of my projects in one place means I can potter from one to the other happily whilst blaring out a few decent grooves. The only downside to being at one with wood is that the building is on the opposite side of the property from the garden so I spent half the hours rushing across the courtyard to tell the woofers to quieten down. Yup, that neighbour’s not happy again and gave me a right rollicking the other day when me and the now-Covid free Denis came back from a fungi-less mushroom hunt to find I’d accidentally left the loudest member of the pack out back. I would like to say I’m happy that they have all been very polite since, including the mouthy Mo but that might have more to do with my emotional state than a lesson in obedience. As much as it isn’t always a calm existence living with 8 canine misfits, when you need a cuddle they are right there hogging the bed with you.
So back to the start of this here blog, hospitals. Mumo is in one. Denis and I had taken her down for a pre-ordered scan on Friday so that someone might have a better idea of what’s going on with her insides when, after the short procedure, we were ushered in to a side office and told that she had to be admitted – en urgence. So we ended up back in the emergency section once again. After a couple of hours of rehydration liquid being dripped into her arm (I call it gin), a doctor arrived to say there was no room at the inn that night but she would have one the following day. So that’s where she is and that’s why I was at the hospital this morning. She has a load of investigative stuff coming up tomorrow so best not to speculate too much at this stage but hopefully, she’ll be released mid-week. I know such buildings are vital but I do hate those corridors. Too many less than ideal memories associated with them. But our Mum’s a tough cookie and she’s much better off in there than here and has plenty of visitors to exhaust her. And she has a room with a view. Of the hospital roof…
“There is no Wi-Fi in the forest, but I promise you will find a better connection.” (Ralph Smart)
Widow plus woofs 