Menoffagainorrhoea; over Easterly

L003 "Loother" here. It was my turn to accompany the YAMster on her sojourn East from Hutch. Reporting is late due to travel:access ratio.

We went to stay with the father of her. He was not a well man. The thing with the Parkinson's and the leukaemia is that immunity for him is low-low-low. When Mac3 arrived for Christmas with an infection, it was only a matter of a day or two before the father succumbed.

(What? I am an educated mouse, you know! I like big words.)

The YAMster was busy. The father needed nursing; mainly with keeping the cough syrup going, the hot food and drinks moving along, the cleaning and housework tip-top and shopping, and getting him to the doctor. All this was necessary because dear Mac1 also caught the dreaded, dirty dose. YAMster had to use both her hands and her head too. My job, therefore, was to ensure that she slept well. I lay on her pillow during the day to clear away all the negative thoughts and sadnesses, and when she was in bed, I was by the side to ensure there was no disturbance.  I take my work seriously. I am sure that having me there helped the YAMster to retain her sense of humour in what might have been a fraught situation.

One of the positives was that she finally got the father shifted from the big, dark room at the North side of his house, to the smaller, brighter and warmer place on the South of the house. It involved a lot of moving of furniture. Big and heavy. Somehow she managed most of it by herself! It took the father a few days to get used to the new arrangement, but he seems to be pleased with it. Some positive comments from visitors helped. The week got colder and colder as it went along so that electric 'living flame fire' was especially welcome!

While she was there, the YAMster got none of her writing done. Not a thing. What she did manage to do was come very close to burning the house down. Croissants. Under the grill. Other things to do. Croissants. Forgotten. No batteries in the father's smoke detector.

It was a close-run thing. Somewhere in the dim and distant future, archaeologists are going to dust off two black, turd-like fossils and ponder upon their origin.

On Friday 5th, the YAMster and I packed up and moved North, to visit Bertie and Miss Gail. Come back tomorrow to hear something about that trip! You can, of course, go visit Bertie's blog today and get some of that news from his own sweet paws!

The YAMster has asked me to remind you that there is to be a running challenge this year for any who wish to take it up; Final Friday Fiction. Check out the Rulez page! It's open to any blogger, and you don't have to do it every month, but give it a go; you might surprise yourself!