Flowers of condolence

These flowers arrived for us from an old family friend at some point today while I was beleaguered in my sickbed. I think I heard the doorbell when they were delivered, but cannot be sure.

I managed to drag myself up twice. First, I accompanied my mother to the village shop/petrol station to collect the papers. I just couldn't let her do this on her own on the day that my father's death announcement appeared in the Newcastle Journal and the Hexham Courant. Later in the afternoon I popped downstairs to greet two police officers from the firearms unit. They visited to open the safe and confiscate my father's guns (temporarily). Since my father was the one who held the firearms certificate, it's not legal for us to hold the guns for the time being.

Otherwise I lay in pain in bed, curtains drawn, breathing out like Darth Vader, and in like a growling cat. I also made good use of the stairlift on my couple of trips downstairs.

No exercise today (obviously).