Friday at last yet again. My horrorscope says that if I am fed up with my job, I should consider changing it. I am sort of weary, but I don't want to change, even if I could.

My foot was very sore this week and I have cured it by wearing sandals for three days and being very careful not to stub mu ingrown toenail. Cannot see my chiropodist until the 5Th.

My younger brother called and I promised to call the oldest about our ancient mother and whether we would be capable of taking care of her during our summer holidays in England.

I am part of the sandwich generation with still young children and very old parents, all of whom must be taken care of in various ways. My oldest has left home, but is always here. My youngest is staying until he has finished school and the middle one insists that we should house him so that he can save up to get his own place. He talks of buying his own car, a luxury I can't afford for myself.

As for my mother. She will be 94 at the end of the year. She does not have Alzheimer's, but does have much "hardening of the arteries" and slips in and out of reality. She is miserable in her old folks' home where she knows that she is surrounded by "no one that loves me". She recently referred to her first born in a photograph on her wall as "that man".


The dance studio and garden.

Sintra in Portugal.

This is a decorated tunnel entrance. I could not find any others. It is on the line from Hayward's Heath to Brighton which also has a spectacular railway bridge, which we found and photographed many summers ago. The tunnel was the site of one of the worst train disasters in Victorian times when one train slammed into the back of another due to signaling problems. Maybe the signal box was even in this castellated structure.A hot day at work reminds me that we will soon have to move in the same heat or worse and that the summer in England mercifully approaches. I almost killed a client last night by leaving him very drunk alone in the shower room, where he fell and hit his head. I was relieved that today he seemed fine.Fun to work yesterday and today with MT. I will not see MT until Monday. As usual, Tuesday rewarded me with being my favourite day, although last week was nice with Thursday off and I might aim for that in semi-retirement. Also attracted by the fantasy of opening a second hand book store as a book will soon be "an artifact of the past".

My main focus today has been juggling the needs of two clients at the hospital. Two, or even one year ago, this would have frazzled me, but today I seemed to know what I was doing with a sort of joyful ease. JB had a seizure this morning and could only barely walk, while being very confused as to which hand to hold his too large pants up with. As usual GM had to be transferred into a cab and into a hospital wheelchair at the other end. Then the triage nurse was, at first, sort of reproachful and insisted I stay with JB and GM's appointment was passing. So I got him up to the eighth floor and back to JB and then back to pick up GM and back to emerge to return his wheelchair to them. How smooth it is when you absolutely know what you are doing! I suppose I could not have gotten through it without some reassuring mantras that just pop into my head now. There was a woman in front of JB and I writhing around, (and not breathing "through" at all), evidently in horrible pain. She was rightly triaged ahead of us, although they took JB soon enough. They reproached us for not calling an ambulance. I saw my favourite triage nurse, but she did not see me. She is apparently Irish which came out as she was trying to comfort a fellow Irish woman sitting near us. When we walked in, it seemed deserted and within half an hour, it was a mad house. The paramedics wore pleasing yellow tee-shirts.

Home alone as today I had to drive out to Nobleton to get my teeth cleaned by "Pamela". Will return in October. On the way I stopped at Long Branch railway station and got schedules and cost for transport into the city. Not bad.

Many of the cars on our lane were parked and they are standard, neither rich nor poor, vehicles. Unrepaired, our vehicle will stand out as the most beaten up. Do we care what the Jones's think? Sometimes.

I called DM without much progress, but will call again tomorrow morning expecting some on D's word.

I also called Balfour Books. They were closed and I left a message which has not been answered yet. We are disposing of four boxes of books.

William stirring. I must go and move the car into the parking garage. I will miss that. I have whistled and sung many a happy tune in those echoy chambers and then the car was always snow-free in winter.

This is some memorial for an Australian war disaster, I think. I don't really know. I found it on Panoramico. Click on it: the details make it very special. If my father had drowned at sea, I would find it to be a moving and fitting memorial. I also like it as it is a mixture of sculpture and architecture.

Our great move is getting closer. So far we have thought mainly of books to sell or throw out before we move. Cathy has just booked movers at 129 an hour. The kids will help and that will reduce the hours taken to move. Minimum four hours.

Not a peep from DM's bunch and William is very worried about his school fees due on July 2nd. Will call yet again tomorrow.

Another nice day at work. I realised on Monday that I now look forward to working with both teams.