I haven’t a clue, I’m sorry

Yesterday evening I got the girls to listen to “I’m Sorry, I Haven’t a Clue” on the car radio; they seemed to enjoy it, as they do when I don’t force them into new things. Definition of “Ovaltine”: an obese teenager. “Eyesore”: woodworking tool made by Apple. Etc….

Today I went on the train to London, to an education event – Business Analytics Optimization solutions, are you any the wiser? It was very good. Lucy went on six different bus journeys to get from our village to Chipping Norton, Banbury and Adderbury, where she saw Juliet. During one conversation, J was referring to Alice, but couldn’t recollect her name; what was worse was that she knew she couldn’t remember her name and that of course upset her. Lucy’s school counsellor has likened J’s brain problem to all the lights in a house slowly going off one by one.

I made it back from London in time to drive to Adderbury and see Juliet briefly. Her Mum and Dad had also visited earlier. J was tired, almost asleep. She said she’d been woken at 2am by a sharp pain in her abdomen and had rung for the nurses; they gave her a morphine jab which sorted it out. I got the fine details from the nurses afterwards. Her feet are terribly swollen but no-one seems concerned about it.

Left to do the evening’s round of the girls’ TKD / skipping tuition / driving practise. The girls related a tale to me: the Sainsbury’s delivery driver had delivered the shopping mid-afternoon, then discovered his van had a completely flat tyre. Further slight problem in that the driver is a) Polish b) deaf c) a non-English speaker. So Lucy rang several of the numbers he offered and after a long time and much involved explanations, a repair truck turned up.

About hodders

Husband and proud father of two daughters. Now a widower. Trying to balance between not dwelling on Juliet's death, but telling the world how much I loved her. Tricky.
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