Good morning all. Greyish, still, mildish. Bland! Just a quick hello while I anxiously await my flapjack, will it be ready before I must leave for the footie................the question is, is this flapjack anxiety or footie anxiety. Hard to say really. No great excitments here. I'm trying to book a last minute family holiday over Easter, which is beginning to come together. We have a friend from California visiting around the same time, last night I finally got to grip with her dates...................Mrs P had been feeding me, and others, with duff info re this. Our friend won't be joining the family holiday. This drops the number of bedrooms we need from six to five, a much easier option.
It's all a bit last minute, for good reason. I feel ready to say this now, quite why I don't know. The effectiveness of Mrs P's treatment has been declining for three months. A few weeks ago we were given the dreaded news, it has ceased to be effective and the tumours are growing. We are on the last lap, the consultant gave a prognosis of 3 - 6 months. She was offered some very brutal chemo with a 20% chance of success. Mrs P has refused further treatment. I knew she would.
On a much more positive note she is renewing her passport so we can fly to France in early May for her oldest friend's 70th birthday. A week ago Mrs P refused to consider this.
The flapjack smells good, I must dash, get it on a wire tray to cool and then off to the footie. I'll catch up all the last couple of days news with my G&T tonight
