About a year ago, Mrs Nog and I had to downsize, moving across the road – literally – as she can no longer manage stairs.
I’m now her full time carer and days consist of getting her up, fed, washed and out followed by lunch. She then sits in front of Sell it / Fix it / Upcycle it / Stop it Barking / Arrest it TV while I go to what one of our sons helpfully calls Pensioner Soup – lane swimming at the local pool.
On my return, Mrs N has dropped off and once she awakes, cup of tea , menial domestic tasks and sit with the cat and watch the parakeets and squirrels fight over bird feeder erm, fat balls.
Evening meal and some shared TV kicks in and by about 9.30 ish, I get her to bed.
We’ve had to unload about 2000 books and put 3 times as many cds and albums into the loft of our old house.
I’m now totally digital via Qobuz which is my accompaniment to a very analogue 10.00 pm onwards in which I read hard copy Weekend Guardian, Observer, New Statesman and the Eye, along with Mojo and » Continue Reading.
