Well! I'll go to the foot of our stairs

... or should it be the top? My colloquialisms have rusted over.
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Such a lovely day. I hope you are all proud of me for turning the computer off and slowing down. Admittedly, I started off with some fairly frenetic, randomised cleaning, before focussing in on the stereo system (yes, I know they're not called that now, but you should see the age of it). I was brave enough to work out what each wire did, and consequently chucked a few away, hoovered up dust from before the era of dry rot, scraped off candle wax from whenever I last had a party where an unmentionable Welshman decided he could dj better by candlelight (about 1993?), and triumphantly, plugged in the new-fangled creation that enables me to upload Rod Stewart from vinyl to i-pod. Except inside the sleeve was Baghdad Cafe.
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Moving swiftly on: you get three guesses... KW, S~S, and possibly even SHW (wonder if you're out there ~ KW, did you know she's been coming from Wimbledon to Brent bleeding Cross weekly for a year and we haven't met???); anyhow, you should be able to figure it out if I say Dibden, circa 1985. Yes, it's our kitchen curtain. I brought it back from East Street market (or was it a trip to Italy, S~S?) & you all thought it was the most tasteless thing you'd ever seen, but let me put it up for privacy's sake. How did it survive the years? MP & I found it today, back of the linen cupboard.
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We had such a good day. Sun came out. Bought young B an alphabet muriel (as the much missed Mrs Ogden used to say), and a lovely storybook called 'Where's My Cuddle?'
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As queen curtain-maker to the great & good, MP made small but significant improvements to several soft furnishings for me, and I slowed down enough to stitch a button to one place & a frog to another. Her departing words (having watched over me to ensure I cooked) were, "Now, I want you to eat your supper, and then choose one project, and every time you stray, go back to it". A natural yogini, clearly. Even as she said it, I knew that I'd end up turning the computer back on & writing. But, I'm tired. I'm a bit ache-y, and I reckon I'll read & then turn in early. Let's see if I can manage it.
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I almost feel as though I've been dreaming this past month - had to take out the hospital printout I've been living with since mid-July to show MP, like pinching myself, grim phrases .. "positive for markers ... morphologically would suggest carcinoma .... suggestive of malignancy"; and as I tidied, came across my half-packed bag, readying for another in-patient stay. No wonder I'm weary. Have just spotted delightful get-out clause even on the pathology report, "Data is correct at time of printing but may be subject to change". MP's father-in-law, hot off the plane from foreign climes, said "Is she going to sue?" No. I suspect the best thing is to move swiftly on, endeavour to enjoy every moment free of grim diagnosis, until the next time. Waiting for the other foot to fall. Again.