Good news at last.
My lovely Mum has been allowed home from hospital, and as you can imagine, we are all delighted by that. Spoke to her this morning and she is very happy to be back in her own bed again, after almost a month in hosital. Youngest Sis is doing a sterling job managing things down there; Mr WithaY and I are going down tomorrow to see how everyone is doing.
Mr WithaY is now home safe and sound after two weeks in deepest West Wales, and is currently asleep, having had lots of late nights. I am going to go and make some scones and a cup of tea for when he wakes up.
It's nice to have him back, it felt like a very long two weeks.
Other news: While I was staying at Bestest Mate's house last weekend I almost died of fright. Was fast asleep*, dreaming peaceful sweet dreams** when I suddenly woke up, having heard someone wandering about. Because of the deep, deep sleep***, and having spent so many night at various other people's houses lately, I was a bit disorientated, and so thought I was at home.
Hearing someone wandering about, I panicked wildly, thinking that my house had been broken into, and that I was going to have to get up and confront a burglar. It only occurred to me in the morning that I had immediately planned for confrontation, rather than hiding under the duvet till it all went quiet again.
Anyhoo, it took me quite a long time to remember that I was in fact in someone else's house, and they were perfectly entitled to be wandering around it while I was sleeping. It took an even longer time to calm down enough to get back to sleep again. Gah.
Adrenaline and alcohol. What a crap combination that is for a soporific.
Right, scone time. Like Hammer Time but with more flour. And less dancing.
*pissed after quite a lot of wine
**grunting and snorting like a wildebeest at a waterhole