Sunday, 31 October 2010

Friday 29th October

                Plans for monitoring Ronnie have been blown out the window.  She was fine last night when I tucked her into bed, having made sure that she’d had all her various pills, but when I popped in first thing this morning, she had fallen out of bed in the night and been unable to get herself back up.  Probably in part because there’s a lot of her to move, but also because she’s getting on a bit now and she’s just out of hospital following some surgery (I didn’t like to ask exactly what the surgery was because I have a suspicion that Ronnie would tell me.  Too much information, as the kids today say).
                So I’ve had to put Plan B into action.  Ronnie has been relocated into our 'spare room' (really, it’s Celeste’s room, so I hope it’s not for too long) and Hedonism has had to go back to Verity’s.  I shall miss having him around – he purrs and sits on my lap in a very loving way, although the OH reckons there’s been fur in some of his meals recently – but I can’t leave Ronnie unaccompanied if she can’t get herself up from a fall.
                What with carrying all of Ronnie’s things round to our house, and escorting Ronnie, and then carting Hedonism and all his things back again, I wasn’t ready to go to the deli to check on biscuit sales until it was nearly lunchtime.  Edith looked at me a little warily.
                “Well,” she said, “they’re selling.  The boxes look pretty an’ all.  But I’m not going to need any more until next Thursday, I reckon.”
                That was disappointing but I tried to hide it by buying a couple of steak and mushroom pies for lunch for me and Ronnie while I was there.   When I got back, Ronnie was still sitting in the armchair where I’d left her.
                “By the way, the phone rang.”  She was able to tell me without letting her eyes leave the TV screen.
                “Who was it?”
                “Oh, it’s not my phone.  I didn’t like to answer.  It might have been personal.”
                Yet again being grateful for the 1471 service, I called Jenny to find out what she wanted.
                “You remember I told you that one of Bunty’s stalwarts was hurt so couldn’t help at the fund-raiser on Wednesday?  Well, she would normally be helping with front of house too, at the local am-dram group’s performances tonight and tomorrow, so we’re a man short.  Interested?  It’s dead easy and you get to see most of the play.”
                I hummed and hahed briefly and then Jenny added the clincher.  “I really hope you do help – I’ve got to tell you what happened at the fundraiser after you left!”  When I left, Jenny had been deep in conversation with a man in uniform, so my appetite was seriously whetted.
                “Okay.  I’ll help.  But could I get a couple of tickets for the rest of the family to see it?”
                Jenny assured me that I could get my family members in for free provided they bought enough raffle tickets.  I wasn’t quite convinced that it would work like that, but decided to take plenty of cash with me anyway.
                The OH was pleasantly surprised that I had organised a theatrical trip so locally for him – walking all the way back to the village hall – and Ronnie was up for it, though she can’t walk that fast, so we set off really quite early and consequently got Ronnie and the OH into the front row.  I was checking tickets and giving out programmes, with a bit of washing-up in the interval, so yes, as Jenny had said, dead easy.  And the play was pretty good.  The OH stayed behind at the end to talk to a couple of the cast that he’s done pub quizzes with, while Ronnie and I set off back home.
                “That’s been so much better,” Ronnie said, as I helped her into bed. 
                I asked her what she meant.
                “Just a nice quiet day.  Nothing too exciting and no spa treatments.  I could do with several of those!”
                So could I, I thought, but I didn’t say anything.  I still had to dash round to Verity’s and feed Hedonism.

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