Busy as a bee, busy as can be

I'm up to my eyes at the moment and a little bit miffed that I cannot enjoy all the hot weather we have been having. I shouldn't grumble really, because despite being on a treadmill, I am rather enjoying it!  I think I must naturally thrive on being busy.

For those that asked, my mother is now over the cracked rib pain. It took her 12 weeks in all to recover (double the normal healing time for fractures) but given her age and the fact she has osteoarthritis and osteoporosis, it is not surprising. She is still staying with me and luxuriating in the TLC and three good meals a day which often come complete with room service! Running up and down the stairs is good for me and gives me that excuse to have another chocolate bar to keep up my energy levels. (Ahem)

Fourteen-year-old Snoopy continues to wag his tail and slowly mince along the path on his daily walks. He is happy to stop frequently and sniff at every blade of grass on the way, even if it does take ten times as long to do the walk as it used to and even though I annoyingly tap my watch at him, it brings no quickening of his pace. He is still weeing for England (mainly on his bedding and on the sofa covers which I wash on a daily basis), but otherwise he is in reasonable health. I can't really put him down just for that reason alone, so we soldier on together, with him mainly sleeping through the day to gather enough strength to eat a meal or climb the stairs to bed at night! It's a dog's life!

Kay is currently in Borneo and, as I write, communing with orang-utans. She apparently came within a few feet of a 19-stone alpha male yesterday (and I am not talking about a fellow-student at the hostel!) She is doing a combination of trekking and sightseeing. I shan't rest until she is back home again, although she assures me it is all very civilised. She tells me via Skype that the locals are fascinated by the whiteness of her skin and colour of her red hair and complete strangers wave at her. Not sure whether that is a good sign or a bad one.

To distract me, I am knee-deep in solicitors' letters and questionnaires connected with my mother's house move. Am I taking the bath? As if! Am I taking the taps?  Errr, well I'm no plumber! Am I taking the curtains? The garden furniture? The list goes on and on and on. Does a neighbour's drain cross our land? How the *%*^£@ do I know? So far, in the space of 4 weeks, I have accumulated about 4 inches of paperwork with detailed searches, questionnaires and the like just from our solicitor, let alone theirs. It is such a long time since I bought or sold a house, I had not realised how intricate it has become. I am sure solicitors mention every little stone or twig lying around in case we should trip over them and say we never got told they were there and sue them, however it means they flag up just about every little thing of no importance. Current projections are that the move will happen some time in September, so it is full steam ahead to prepare and pack up or dispose of 6 decades of home-making, as we condense a spacious 4-bedroom house into a miniscule 1-bedroom retirement flat.

My mother celebrates her 90th birthday in two weeks' time and I am wracking my brain what to give her.  Bear in mind she is elderly (hence the 90th birthday!), disabled ,housebound, can't see very well and is down-sizing to a small flat, it does narrow things down a bit. I'm working on a photo album - a sort of "This is Your Life" theme to it and have been busy scanning old black and white photos of when she was a toddler or a wee young girl in Land Army Uniform right through to the present day. Apart from that, I haven't a clue. Any suggestions gratefully received.

Meanwhile the sun shines its head off and helps to slow me down a bit, but not enough to go outside and sit in it. Maybe by December I'll get some free time..... but, oh, wait a minute, it'll be Christmas and there'll be presents  and food to get in. There's never a dull moment.