I don’t blog much any more. I’m off work. I don’t have the concentration to do much more than play candycrush, sort through stuff and graze social media. I’ve become a half arsed, flakey version of a Stepford Wife. Rich gritting his teeth when I brightly suggest that if we wipe the top of the cooker daily it will remain clean.
My days are strangely unfilled with little and so much.
I listen to this, over and over again.
Haunting and magical particularly from 3.16.
Richard Handley’s inquest has been live tweeted this week (@Handleyinquest). A cheeky chappy surrounded by love and a family effectively excluded from the work sadly needed to keep him alive. A tale of barbaric and inhumane failings.
The overlap with Connor’s inquest is harrowing. Blame shifting, lies and an absence of remorse. Richard’s mother brutally and unnecessarily questioned at length.
I bought a bag of wool and crochet hooks. I need to learn to hold, hook, turn and gently pull through wool though woollen hoops and loops. I’m watching a ‘crochet for beginners (left handed)’ youtube film. It takes practice apparently but the basics are clear:
“Move your crochet hook under and over the yarn, and then pull it through.”
I do this. Listening to Under giant trees.
‘Always make sure patients with epilepsy are within sight or sound when bathing.’
‘Make sure Richard has a healthy diet (plenty of fibre) and monitor bowel movements…’
Under, over and through.
Clear and simple instructions.
Giant trees. 3.16 is the best bit.