8

Isn't 8 a lovely number?
So much more tidy and symmetrical than most other numbers, and more interesting than a 1 or a zero.

There goes another birthday. Tess seemed to have a great time, despite one friend being away and another being ill. So it was only a small party but they made up for the 2 missing girls by making plenty of noise.

Richard was supposed to go out tonight after the party but he didn't feel up to it. He coughed all night last night and was fumbling around for his inhaler in the dark, and then I woke up this morning feeling like this virus was winning again (or is it another one?), but we managed to get through the day - and, more importantly, the birthday party - and now I'm coughing like mad and overdosing on Strepsils (they're not working!)
Joel is a tiny bit better again today and managed to get dressed but he's really tired and quiet.

It's late and I really should be resting but I'm not looking forward to lying awake in the dark with an irritating, tickly cough. I also need to deal with some emotions.


For the last four years the end of Tess's birthday has marked the end of Dad's life. I've deliberately not thought about it today - partly because the memories are too awful and partly because there's been too much going on, but when I came upstairs just now, the cold air and the quiet dark hit me. The sadness and the bad memories hang in the cold and the dark of January and the in long night that follows cake and balloons.

Hoping for a quiet day tomorrow.