Another red letter day my darling daughter Chloeâ€™s birthday. She also broke the good news was that she had been made a consultant clinical psychologist at the Maudsley Hospital, where she works. It is a great feather in her cap as it is one of the leading hospitals in the world in her particular discipline. Both children (why do we persist in calling our middle aged offspring â€˜ childrenâ€™?) have kindly telephoned me daily and both and entreated me to not put too much pressure on â€˜my lovelyâ€™ about coming home. They quite rightly say that we must be properly prepared, so it looks as though I may be here a few days longer.
Of course, the highlight of every day is the visit (or perhaps two) from my lovely who brings me goodies in the way of fruit, nuts and chocolate. On my request, sheÂ also brought me a little plain bottle containing whisky but one of the staff nurses noticed this and said rather sharply, that alcohol was not prescribed, so having be on the waggon for a week now I shall continue for a few days more, no doubt doing my system later a great deal of good. Funny thing is I don’t really miss it, nor indeed my evening cigar. It is nice to know, as I thought I might have become addicted to both but clearly they have become merely a matter of habit.