It seemed positively spring-like at the start of the week with Monday and Tuesday being gloriously sunny days. Wednesday was overcast and Thursday slightly rainy. Yesterday, however, was completely soggy, so much so that I decided the morning walk with the dog was quite enough for one day. The poor dog didn't seem too happy about going without her second walk but she got over it.
I do have to wonder about the weather reports in the daily rag. They give the highest and lowest temperatures for various towns around the country together with the amount of rain and a one or two word description of the weather during the 24 hours up to 6.00pm the previous day. Thursday's paper reported that Brighton had enjoyed an hour and a half of sun on Wednesday. Finny, I didn't notice it, nor did any of the Lions at our dinner meeting that evening. It's not the first time that the reports have differed from my recollections, indeed, it happens quite often. Makes me wonder where they take the readings.
Yesterday morning - or most of it - was spent at the hospital. My joints have been swelling, especially my hands, and I have been getting increasingly stiff so I followed my consultant's advise and tried for an earlier appointment than the one already fixed. That was Tuesday and the same afternoon I was offered a slot yesterday morning. The downside was that it was at the main Royal Sussex County Hospital. There is nearly always a long wait for a space in the car park, which costs exhorbitantly, and the on-street parking around the hospital is pay and display. One never knows just how long one will be and as the Old Bat was otherwise engaged (her regular Friday hyperbaric oxygen treatment) I caught the bus. Actually, I quite like doing that occasionally as it gives me an opportunity to people-watch. But I allowed far too much time so even though I walked the last mile, I was still half an hour early for my appointment. And the doctor was an hour behind. He sent me for a blood test - for which there was no waiting! - and then I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up some new medication. That involved a wait of nearly half an hour. Time was getting on so I went mad and took a taxi to get home - the cost of which caused me to wince. The doctor rang in the afternoon to confirm that all was OK with the blood test and I can start the new wonder drug.
I referred to the Old Bat up the page a bit and that reminded me of the variety of soubriquets we bloggers employ for our husbands/wives/partners/ whatevers. As well as the Old bat, sometimes known as She Who Must Be Obeyed, I have referred to the dear lady as Mrs S. Then we have Grandma Skip, albeit usually now abbreviated to GS, and there is MY WIFE. I have come across The Man, DH, Mrs Chatterbox (or just Mrs C), Him Outdoors (a nod there to Arthur Daley) - all, presumably, in an effort to prevent unscrupulous folks gaining too much personal information which they then proceed to use maliciously.
As I said, Thursday was gloomy, but I still took a walk up the Waterhall valley and even took a photo showing that the dew pond is fuller than I can recall ever before seeing it. It was a bit murky up the valley.