The smell of breakfast cooking wakes me and the thought of a yummy breakfast is so lovely to wake up to. I manage to eat a sausage, piece of bacon, and half an egg, before I am beaten. Now normally it is followed swiftly by an lovely mug of black coffee, but not now, I have to wait 30mins before I can have a drink. The first cuppa after a cooked breakfast is always the best and it is not quite the same when you have to wait that long.
This afternoon Paul and I pop over the see a friend and deliver her new computer that Paul has bought on her behalf for a new working role. We succumb to a glass of wine and I am not sozzled, I am astounded and luckily it goes unnoticed. Paul on the other hand enjoys a couple of glasses before we head home.
For dinner we decide to have haggis with mash, suede and a few baked beans as I need something wet with the dinner. It is very filling and the dog knows he’s in for a treat if Callum doesn’t get there first! That is one of the things I find hardest is the waste and not being able to finish a meal. It’s good that I can’t but it is still upsetting too at the same time. It takes so long for my head to cope with it all, but I am sure I am not the first to have this and I know I won’t be the last.
Paul did give me a glass of wine, Jacobs Creek which is usually lovely, but I think my taste buds must be playing up after the wine at Jane’s, as I just don’t fancy it. I have been so cold every evening and once again I am huddled up in a blanket, and I drifted off to sleep in the recliner chair. I can remember waking up a few times, but not enough to get myself off the chair and get upstairs to bed, where Paul would have been like a Furness. Oh well, my loss.
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