Escape

The news still seems to be full of the death of Mrs Thatcher yesterday. I’m here to escape yet more special programmes on radio & television.

We’re hoping to get off to Lancaster this afternoon. The Fox’s glasses are finally ready, so we need to get in to collect them & get the other pairs sorted while we wait. We have a few shopping chores to do - a bit of a clothes & shoe hunt, Lancaster is better for that.

I would prepare some food, but it seems a bit pointless. By the time we’re likely to get back, I suspect we will be ready for a quick microwave meal, or maybe even eat out for a change.

I’m thinking once I’m finished here, I’m going to start on the depressing task of getting a few travel insurance quotes. I expect, as usual, I’m well and truly going to feel like an old crock, falling to bits, by the time I’m done. There’s something about going through the long list of medical conditions we both have, or have had, which seems to shock people at the other end of the phone. What particularly gets to me is some of the things they regard as relevant. They still ask if I have ever had cancer. I have, but it was over 10 years ago with no sign of recurrence since the op I had in 2001, but some companies still want to know about it. What I fear will put the price up this time, is my pancreatitis & the Fox’s current mystery problem.

Oh well, we’ll see what happens. Wish me luck!