Wednesday, 9 January 2019

Road ahead closed

We visited Haverhill yesterday. Haverhill is not somewhere we talk about much, but our good friends Rae and Malcolm live there and we were invited for coffee and chat. Their road is closed for sewer repairs, so we had weave through the shoppers by approaching via the High Street. Driving towards their entrance, we passed the "Road Ahead Closed" sign, and inched up through parked workpeople's cars towards the barrier where a large glaring yellow excavator was dredging up the road. The man driving looked more and more surprised, then apprehensive as we approached, thinking I was about to take him on in a daring challenge, and looked most relieved when I suddenly swung into the gate, just missing his little barrier.

Yesterday too, Edwin landed at Heathrow on his return from Israel. The airport was closed for an hour due to another drone sighting, but he missed the delays. He drank a good quantity of champagne before landing and stayed in a hotel overnight. I picked him up today from Cambridge station. They have done away with the 20 minute (or even 5 minute) stopping places; there is drop-down only there now, or pay over the odds for 10 minutes in their main carpark. I joined several other cars, cruising round, until Edwin rang to ask, "where are you?" and I could finally dash into the queue of cars, and urge him to sling his case in quickly. I had the dogs with me, thinking they'd be delighted to see their master back, but they were somewhat aloof as though sulking that he'd left them. They came round once we were back home and were all over him.

Ann had to see the glaucoma clinic in Bury early today, and is on the waiting list for cataract removal. She has already been waiting for two years, and is considering going privately. Coming home, a neighbour came up to intercept us with news of our next-door neighbour who spends every winter in India. He has had a massive stroke out there, and is currently in hospital and unable to return home. He is the third man in our road to have had a massive stroke, and the road only has four houses! I am the fourth man - not a nice prospect. Given a choice, I think I'll stick with the cancer: at least I can still think and act for myself.

No comments:

Post a Comment