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Sunday, August 28, 2005

I just finished reading Blindness, by Saramago. It's quite a read - excellent, but very disturbing. Somewhat to my surprise, I didn't find the lack of punctuation in the conversations off-putting or distracting; I really liked Saramago's writing style.

People are setting fireworks off somewhere outside; the kind that make an unearthly screech before they go bang. It's kind of creepy.

Today has been a bit of a boring day. We did get out for a picnic this morning; found a pretty spot and ate our sandwiches and drank our thermos of tea. But that was about it. Bit of a waste, really, considering what lovely weather it was.

We would have made more of it, but Bobby is fighting off the flu, I think. He had a really bad night last night, very feverish and achy-painy, plus he's somehow pulled a chest muscle and has a stiff neck (bad pillows, he says). I had a huge attack of hypochondria on his behalf in the small hours of the morning. He was in such pain - it hurt terribly to turn over - and running a high temperature, and it suddenly became totally obvious to me that his conglomeration of odd symptoms meant that he must have something hideous wrong with him, like a nasty sudden-onset leukaemia or something ... A dear friend's mother actually died of this a few years back, what seemed like flu was actually leukaemia, and she died within about a week ... Anyway, I was absolutely convinced that Bobby was mortally ill and was (obviously) distraught, and frustrated that he kept refusing to consider seeing a doctor. But by 9 this morning he seemed tons better, certainly not at death's doorstep, thank God. And he seems okay this evening. Not 100% but nothing to worry about. I feel a bit silly about how worried I was in the middle of the night.

Tomorrow (bank holiday) we're driving to Gloucestershire; getting together with one of my childhood friends, his wife and their little girl. It's a bit of a duty visit for Bobby but I'm looking forward to it.

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