A sense of dampness pervades the air. It's one of those dark grey days that doesn't give much sense of light. It's not actually raining. It hasn't all morning, yet everywhere drips. The ground looks sodden. The trees drip. The bird table drips. The roofs drip. Everything drips.
Today we're off to the Christmas meal at the Pub. Already things are going aggly. PD has just rung to say his wife, Lin, will be late arriving, may even miss the first course.
Lin's dad is due to go into hospital today for a minor op. Last night he apparently got in a panic so Lin ended up staying the night with her father, trying to reassure him all would be well. His doctor didn't think the op was really necessary but Geo, Lin's dad, elected to go ahead. In his 90s, he's now beginning to wonder if he shouldn't have listened to his GP's advice.
So Lin will be taking her dad to the hospital this afternoon. They want to do a few preliminary tests today before the op tomorrow. In view of the state her father's already worked himself into, Lin feels she ought to visit him in the evening to make sure he's still okay. But that will inevitably mean she will be late for the meal tonight. She's intending to join us all as soon as she can. It's a pity but it can't be helped.
I wonder what's next to disrupt things.
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