In the Pink

It’s been all go.

First the Gas engineer. Mum and Dad’s boiler is at least 25 years old. The timer in the kitchen is at least 50 (the engineer had never seen one of its type). But thankfully - all still OK. I don’t think they could take the disruption of replacing things, so it’s touching wood for the winter.

Then to the High a Street to get essentials. Sad to see the local Waitrose is closing in three weeks after 41 years. And the post office goes with it.

Then get Dad showered. And changed. Our roles definitely reversed. A good chat to T, who helps out with cleaning, washing and ironing. A video call to grandma and grandad from a niece and her daughter.

Then to Welwyn GC, via dad’s doctor’s surgery, for some very necessary purchases. Which is where we came across this very pink fountain (breast cancer awareness).

And return for more things to sort. I need to find a mobile hairdresser and chiropodist. And go through loads of paperwork.

All against a background of TV, which is usually on. A big fix of things we never see, always an eye opener. I notice that the government’s strategy of heading for No Deal whilst pinning the blame on Ireland and the EU is successfully on track. A strategy of a general election campaign fought on a “ they don’t like it up em” strategy. Dad’s Army has a lot to answer for.