Friends, friends, friends

Ash has gone to bed early again so I thought I'd let you know about my lovely week, every bit of it down  to some of my amazing friends.

On Tuesday a friend came to stay with Ash for a couple of hours while I went to view another care home.  You'll remember the previous disasters and are possibly expecting more of the same.  I certainly was but it appears that not all care homes are dreadful.  In fact some of them are very nice indeed and this was one of them.  I turned up with only 30 minutes notice and was welcomed with open arms, the place didn't smell and the staff have all been there for ever which, in the world of adult care, is rare indeed.  Of course they don't have any rooms available at the moment but I was told to phone every month and if one does come available then I can decide whether we're at that stage or not.

So, on with the week.  Wednesday morning saw a crowd here for coffee, croissant, cheese scones and lots of chat; Thursday saw two more friends take the day off work so that the three of us could have a trip to York on the only day of the week I'm really free and Friday was the day that S whisked Ash off to a reunion coffee morning.  

While Ash was on his jolly another three friends raced over to sort out my wood 'yard' for me (in reality a small, dark corner of the garden).  That escapade took an awful lot of planning and was meant to give us four hours in which to really make some headway and clear some space.  The best laid plans however rarely work out as expected and it turns out, unsurprisingly, that Ash doesn't cope with large gatherings as well as he did twelve months ago.  I went to fetch him home before lunch and came back to find all wood related things cleared away and a large pile of logs to get me started when it turns really cold.

On top of these particular events Malcolm came to cut the hedge, Martin called to see what he needed to do to put a washing line up under the veranda for me and Peter followed me up the road when he saw me running full pelt past his house on Wednesday morning.  He thought there might be a crisis but then saw the skip lorry turning into the drive and realised that, this time at least, we were ok.

So lots of heartwarming support from those around us and the knowledge that we're not on our own through all of this.

I hear lots of people say that friends so easily fall by the wayside when dementia makes its presence felt and all I can say is that I'm so grateful ours are made of very strong stuff indeed.

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