Mum 'missed' another eye hospital appointment today, her reason, a 'funny belly'.
Having one eye is funnier.

I hate myself for being angry with her, but I am.

She is 73 with weak legs but that's no excuse for not getting on a bus or catching a cab in order to be able to continue reading.
I've offered to go with her but she refuses. Absolutely without question. "Shut up about it Ang ok?"

I'm not really surprised by this cavalier attitude to health, she's always been like it. Comes from being a gambler I suspect and from being a risk-taker extraordinaire. Risk-taking nutter.

Her own Mother once said to her (about her wayward lifestyle) "Don't you care Iris?" "No, I'm alright" was her skippingly light reply. And she was alright...

But eyes are different dear mummy dearest...With only one eye in working order how will you read comfortably, watch Noel Edmonds and see your daughter glowing with sexual satisfaction.
Damn it all, you will be a burden to the man with damaged lungs and a constant source of tears for me.

OK love-rant over, back to today and me.

Written a list of must-gets tomorrow. Top of the list a hard broom.
Watching videoed prog about Darwin.
Scrubbing and I do mean scrubbing some floors, got a lovely thick scrubbing brush and bottle of lemony zingy Ajax for the occasion.
Trying on my 'new' fawn/chocolate coloured cowl-necked woollen dress, rippled with gold lurex, a real sexy winter-warmer.

Cooking tonight:
Steak on a proper steak-plate.