At last the torrential rain stopped yesterday, to be replaced by wind with the sun peeping out, hurrah. I don’t reckon much to the dark mornings and nights do you, but just to cheer you up, the nights start drawing back out in eight days and I’m so glad. I’ve decided I am definitely a daylight and sunshine person, how about you? So that little bit of sun was great, although we’ve missed the snow and had torrential rain yesterday morning.
In the 20 years we’ve been here we’ve hardly ever seen any snow – this was about the worst we’ve seen it in 2010. It’s weird to see a white beach meeting a frosty sea.
Well it is December I suppose, although I seem to remember Summer not being much better!
Letters to Friends
I’ve done yet another letter to one of my friends in Yorkshire who I met forty years ago in February, in of all places a hospital bed, no not the same one, separate ones. We are still friends all these years later. She was just one of those people that you instantly click with and that was the start of all these years and what we shared in there.
We can laugh now but oh the food, it was in a league of its own, by and large it was awful apart from the breakfast when you could have individual packets which nobody had made! After a couple of days of really not liking the food, we decided to order salad followed by fruit salad for dessert, after all, what can they do about that we thought?
The salad turned up with what looked like a piece of rubber but was pressed meat, but it was a wonder the lettuce didn’t get up and walk off the plate. Why? It was full of big fat greenfly who had obviously been gorging on our salad!
Joan my friend, took one look at it and yelled ‘I’m not eating that’ and told the nurse to take it back to the kitchen which they returned minus the greenfly, but could you have eaten it? We didn’t. The fruit salad was – guess what – an unpeeled orange on a plate that you had to peel with your fingers! So that went back and so it went on.
The day after we tried salad again and jelly to follow, thinking that surely they couldn’t do the same thing twice, oh yes they could, we also had a big fat caterpillar having a walk around the leaves, so by this time (I was too quiet by half back then) Joan yelled to the ward sister that she wanted to put a complaint in so she did. Although going by the tasteless, watered down jelly they hadn’t taken much notice.
Now before anyone says anything, I know that hospital food is never going to be like the food you eat at home and it has improved vastly since then, also I know that trying to get food to the wards etc is no easy task plus the budget they work to, but surely the food should be decent enough to make sick people want to eat it. After all if you are ill and can’t eat the food you aren’t going to help yourself get better are you.
Anyway, we had a few more escapades while we were in there a week, and Joan was a very quiet lady in her own way although when rattled she certainly knew what to do! If anyone raised their voices she got upset as she couldn’t stand loud noise which isn’t too good in hospital is it. But one thing I gained from that awful stay was the friendship that two strangers could have by being in hospital together, so to write to Joan isn’t a bind it’s a pleasure to have her for a friend as we shared so much in such a little time.
I’ve still got about three more to plough through so I’ll have to get my hands going. I don’t know about anybody else but the older I get the worse my writing gets and I always seem to manage to set off writing in straight lines (on unlined paper of course) and by the time I’ve started to get a few lines under my belt, there is a decided slant to my writing and by the time I get to the bottom I look as though I’ve been on the bottle and had one too many – which I can assure you I haven’t.
Knowing this will happen, I try to correct the lines and end up with a pretty zigzag effect on the page and it’s a good job they all know me or they would think I’d lost the ability to write in a straight line which I suppose I must have. Aren’t I daft, I get worse not better as I get older, but at least I’m here to tell the tale!
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