Jeremy left this morning. Just me and the girls now. And the GPs. He’s been a valued confidante. I even went through the detail and reality of J’s medical history with him yesterday morning, something J was not keen on knowing in detail.
Drove up to Chippy to return the hired wine glasses and to deliver Alice’s school papers & results to the school. Back home we had a third day of leftover party food for lunch. It’s beginning to pall to be honest and the cheese and onion rolls show no sign of diminishing.
I’d planned to occupy myself by attending our village Bank Holiday Monday Flower and Fun Dog Show, and so the three of us duly strolled down there.
There was a big marquee, with judged competitions such as finest vegetables, best floral displays and best vegetables arranged in the shape of a toy. Outside there were stalls selling home-made greetings cards and aloe vera potions. In the centre of the playing field a dog obstacle course competition was in full swing, with the local chairwoman providing the running commentary. If you think it sounds parochial, twee and fingernails-down-a-blackboard excruciating , I couldn’t possibly comment. We found three caterpillars determinedly munching their way through the Best Cabbage display, that was strangely uplifting.
Chatted to a couple of neighbours and then left after 30 minutes (so we stayed three times as long as we might have, be fair) , even the paperwork at home was an attractive alternative. Picked some large and luscious dandelion leaves from the graveyard on the way home, which freaked Alice out somewhat, but the GPs don’t care.
Unfortunately the paperwork proved to be rather upsetting, it was only mundane stuff like closing online store shopping accounts. I spoke to a chap at the Marks & Spencer call centre and almost felt sorry for the guy, he was mortified to be dealing with me. A few days ago I’d had to jump through hoops to make enquiries about whether J had any Premium Bonds and to have them cashed in if so (they cannot be owned by the deceased). The day after the funeral I received a computer-printed form thus:
Talked to my Dad in France in the evening, took Lucy to & from a friends’ house, watched a couple of Friends episodes with the girls. Read some letters from J. Desperately touching, I can’t go into why. Work tomorrow. I had planned to go into the office, but I suspect the funeral director will be in touch with me, to see how things went – and to ask when I will be collecting the ashes. So I think I had better be at home for that call.