Monday, 14 August 2017

The clock ticks . . .

Time draws on, and the temperature of panic rises another degree or so.  Today the removal man came for a second look to see if all the stuff we have thrown out (to be read as "disposed of in a responsible and ecologically satisfactory manner") made any noticeable difference to his arrangements.  He made a lot of notes but remained tactfully silent as to whether it might bring the cost down a bit - which I interpret as "no it doesn't".

A local Hospice van calls again tomorrow for our latest offering, and we are trying, unsuccessfully so far, to get the oven etc cleaned - my guess is that we are now well and truly into the holiday season and people just ain't there to answer telephones.

Tomorrow I go for a PSA Test which will alas likely be my last call at our Medical Centre which/who has looked after us so well for the last 27 years. So one of our jobs is to keep a growing list of people to whom we must send thank you cards for services rendered. The next PSA Test, if I am still around to have one, should be in Scotland and the Urologist at the big hospital in Dumfries.  This seems to be anticipating a move from its present site to a new one on the A75 west of the town which seems pretty amazing as the photo of the existing Royal Infirmary appears to show a fairly modern building.

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