Back in Sydney. Melbourne still there. Saw grandfather. Grandfather not well. But good to see him. He is still compus mentus which meant he understood what we talked about. We discussed my renovations, the news of the day, the nurses – who he teases mercilessly. I think they love him though, so many of those people are gaga and unresponsive, at least granddad is mentally mostly there and engages with them. That must be awesome when most of the rest of the people you’re looking after just lie there or are vegetative. They all seem to think he is sweet. We haven’t corrected them because hell he seems to be these days.
He’s not eating well though – wouldn’t touch his main meal – only ate dessert and the pureed fruit – which I feed to him. Conned me into trying the pureed main meal. God-awful and I don’t blame him for not eating it. He thought me eating it was hilarous. Still a canny old bastard.
Caught up with B and N and ate some food, went to an exhibition. Then I fell off the wagon. In a big way. No smoking though. Barely. But no smoking.
Fought off a shocking hangover and had breakie in Brunswick St with the lovely Ruth. Bumped into various peoples on the way there too – a bit memory lane like. Then fought off nausea on the plane and got back to Sydney where Lu was nice enough to come pick me up.
And a Vietnamese meal. I love living in the Inner West.
Finally somebody describes me with an adjective my mother can be proud of.