This cancer journey has been a strange one, and very long. I've often felt like a colt - lunging and fighting at the harness slipped onto me, the harness of all the daily chores and duties I have to take control of, but I've finally been gentled into it. I realised that, as I was taking leaves out of the pool this morning. I manage the pool adequately (it always used to be Geoff's job), I do a lot of the driving and all the taking care of the car - licences, petrol, air in the tyres and so forth, and of course as usual all the cooking, mending, cleaning, buying groceries and washing I've always done. (Thank goodness for my Malawian helper Chadson: he gardens a bit and cleans the house a lot every Friday) I've been thinking how lovely our quiet days are, on the whole. Geoff and I are getting old together very comfortably indeed. We cheer each other with silly jokes. I feel warmly towards him. He can do quite a few things now: he can make a fire, he can make coffee. What he can't do is look up too much or get up off the floor, so he can't stoop down too low. He must never overbalance. This is how he bashed his eye while falling on Tuesday. He was concussed for a while.
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