Catchup time

 Autumn has come early to Hundon foretelling a long harsh winter,. Already, in early August, blackberries hang heavy on the brambles, darkest black and thick with juice, not sour or acidic but sugary sweet in the hot prolonged sunshine. Underfoot crunch the fallen leaves,  deep gold and brown and crisp as burn toast. The trees still wear a green mantle, but look closely and the edges of the leaves are turning yellow. The ground is hard as concrete, fizzured and dry beneath the tawny grass. This long, dry summer and the early autumnal changes presage a cruel winter, forecast to be harsher by a looming fuel shortage and massivley increasing bills. 

Our friends Rae and Malcolm came for coffee this week. They have recently returned from a holiday abroad, staying with two friends of theirs in France, another Ann and John. At least, it was meant to be a holiday but didn't turn out as planned. The plane from Stansted was on schedule and loaded quickly, while passage through the airport in France was smooth and swift. But the day before their arrival, Ann had fallen badly and fractured her femur, and was having to attend hospital. John was driving over to see her, but they could not go with him. Eventually she was brought back by ambulance as they could not get in the car because it wouldn't take her wheelchair. This meant that for the whole holiday, they could not leave the house, lacking a car of their own. The house lacked air-conditioning, yet the shutters were closed to keep out the sun, so the house was roasting. They could not even sit in the garden or take restful strolls due to the burning 40+C heat. To crown it all, Malcolm slipped in the shower and was badly bruised. He's just lucky he didn't break a leg as well.

Our Ann is improving slowly, but still gets breathless. She saw the cardiologist on Monday, but a young man rather than the consultant, who told her she had fluid on the diaphragm and would need a diuretic. Unfortunately, our GP refuses to give her a prescription until he hears from the hospital, but the hospital still haven't written to him, so Ann remains untreated.

Ann needs to sleep well to help heal her damaged heart, but I continue to be restless at night, getting up every hour or two to go to the toilet, or put creams on to ease the itching, or to pace the floors to relieve cramp. The dermatologist has offered me a new treatment: self-administered injections once every fortnight. They are expensive, and semi-experimental as few people have received this treatment yet, but they do give hope that things might improve. Surprisingly, Ann gets disturbed by my nocturnal wandering rather than sleeping soundly, so has opted to sleep downstairs. At least she gets some unbroken sleep now.

Tomorrow, Ann's sister Jane is coming to visit, with her son yet another John, who has always been known as Little John, as he was the youngest in the family. Their car is too unreliable for the journey, so they are hiring one. Ann has been busy all day baking cakes, making a trifle and preparing for their coming, but they will not stay the night, being determined to do the whole trip in a single day.

Ann, with sister Jane and nephew John