||[Apr. 21st, 2019|06:17 pm]
Ten to midnight and there was a loud crash. My mother had fallen in transit from her bed to the commode and broken her bedside table as she went down. (Who knew it was so flimsy?) She scraped her head on the wall- and there was a smear of blood on the wallpaper and everything looked worse in the moment than it turned out to be. She went back to bed- and we were up till three o'clock on the phone to medical staff and clinicians. No serious damage seems to have been done.|
Except to the bedside table, of course, which is heading for the bonfire.
My sister came over in the morning, bringing our niece and nephew and their kids. I organised an Easter egg hunt. These are thoughtful, serious children. I walked round the field with the eldest boy and one of the things we talked about was pottery manufacture.
I watched a bit of Saving Mr Banks. So manipulative- as Disney is- but interesting as the Disney empire's apologia for itself. Me, I've always looked at Disney the way Emma Thompson's P.L Travers does- but like her I'm open to persuasion. Mary Poppins persuades me. Bedknobs and Broomsticks persuades me. Frozen persuades me- or at least that song does.