RiverFork of Trill
Apr. 5th, 2023 09:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoWe had all kinds of weather this morning--a long line of storms bringing torrential rain, thunder, and tornado warnings starting in the early hours. All kinds of weather with Madame, too. Before I could call her, she called me again, to announce that "so there wouldn't be any surprises," I should know that she would be waiting with her suitcases packed for me to drive her back to her house! This being the first I'd heard of it, I said I really was not prepared to do that. She once again hung up in frustration. Shortly thereafter, though, she replied to a text I'd sent two weeks ago, promising to come and visit "tomorrow," and asked "Is tomorrow today?"--a very good question!--"Are we going to meet?" Well, alrighty then.
I first checked the weather news to make sure I wasn't driving off into an oncoming tornado. Alas, I was quite safe in spite of the downpour and giant puddles all over the road. So I went and picked her up. She has taken to bringing her cane AND her walker. After she had climbed in, I said "I'll just put your walker in the back." "Oh! Do you have that?" she said, as if it had been entirely my idea. She never let up on the subject of a) decamping back to her house, and b) getting her car back. Fortunately, her daughter texted her during lunch to say that she would come on Friday and help her pack up. That was somewhat distracting. Madame had just been telling me that "I can drive, you know. I've been driving my car all over while Mademoiselle was away." "Last week?" I said, in some astonishment. "I don't think so." She maintained it was so. She then claimed her daughter had texted to say she was planning to leave her alone on Easter, which I knew was not true as she had just read her daughter's text aloud to me a few minutes earlier, and it said no such thing. I am the victim of a highly unreliable narrator. While it has its comic aspects, it is truly tragic to see it happening. I tried to insinuate that perhaps there are reasons why her daughter is genuinely concerned for her, and that possibly one needs help as one gets older, but she wasn't having it.
When I finally took her back to Happy Hills, she had calmed down quite a bit. After I helped her navigate around the giant carpet cleaner equipment that was blocking the front door, she thanked me "for being a friend." This just made me feel terrible, because I don't feel I'm able to help her at all in any effective way. I was flattened and had to take a nap while the Sparrowhawk went to the gym. I woke up long enough to watch an episode of the Joan Hickson version of Miss Marple. The period clothes are so exquisite. I enjoy them, and the scenery, regardless of who is being murdered. Also everyone is always drinking lovely cups of tea out of fine china. It's very calming. Meanwhile, in "Son of the Black Stallion," things have finally taken a turn for the better, as Satan finally responds to Alec's care after his traumatic but not very damaging injury. It's sort of a hurt/comfort scenario, but with horses. Poor Henry, Alec's mentor, has to recover as best he can. Nobody's going to rub ointment tenderly into the rope burns marring his sleek hide. Really, this book makes a lot more sense if it's considered as fan fiction
I first checked the weather news to make sure I wasn't driving off into an oncoming tornado. Alas, I was quite safe in spite of the downpour and giant puddles all over the road. So I went and picked her up. She has taken to bringing her cane AND her walker. After she had climbed in, I said "I'll just put your walker in the back." "Oh! Do you have that?" she said, as if it had been entirely my idea. She never let up on the subject of a) decamping back to her house, and b) getting her car back. Fortunately, her daughter texted her during lunch to say that she would come on Friday and help her pack up. That was somewhat distracting. Madame had just been telling me that "I can drive, you know. I've been driving my car all over while Mademoiselle was away." "Last week?" I said, in some astonishment. "I don't think so." She maintained it was so. She then claimed her daughter had texted to say she was planning to leave her alone on Easter, which I knew was not true as she had just read her daughter's text aloud to me a few minutes earlier, and it said no such thing. I am the victim of a highly unreliable narrator. While it has its comic aspects, it is truly tragic to see it happening. I tried to insinuate that perhaps there are reasons why her daughter is genuinely concerned for her, and that possibly one needs help as one gets older, but she wasn't having it.
When I finally took her back to Happy Hills, she had calmed down quite a bit. After I helped her navigate around the giant carpet cleaner equipment that was blocking the front door, she thanked me "for being a friend." This just made me feel terrible, because I don't feel I'm able to help her at all in any effective way. I was flattened and had to take a nap while the Sparrowhawk went to the gym. I woke up long enough to watch an episode of the Joan Hickson version of Miss Marple. The period clothes are so exquisite. I enjoy them, and the scenery, regardless of who is being murdered. Also everyone is always drinking lovely cups of tea out of fine china. It's very calming. Meanwhile, in "Son of the Black Stallion," things have finally taken a turn for the better, as Satan finally responds to Alec's care after his traumatic but not very damaging injury. It's sort of a hurt/comfort scenario, but with horses. Poor Henry, Alec's mentor, has to recover as best he can. Nobody's going to rub ointment tenderly into the rope burns marring his sleek hide. Really, this book makes a lot more sense if it's considered as fan fiction
no subject
Date: 2023-04-06 01:36 pm (UTC)"regardless of who is being murdered." LOL.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-10 02:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-04-10 12:04 pm (UTC)