What a week.
A couple of years ago, I was at the sprints at DjangoCon Europe in Copenhagen. It was the last day, the Sunday. I had a text saying my Mum had been taken ill, and needed to go to hospital. I got home late the next day to find her in the high-dependency unit at the local hospital, and lucky to be alive.
She’d had a stroke. It had hit her hard, and it’s been a long road since to recovery. She’s been doing OK.
This week she had a fall, and cracked open her head. So, there was that.
She’s doing fine.
There’s been a long series of thoughts on what we do now moving forward. It’s all OK right now. It can be a bit taxing.
I did do some bits and pieces on the computer this week, but I don’t really have the enthusiasm to write about them.
In contrast, I took up reading Las Luces de Septiembre by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. It’s the first time I’ve picked up one of his books. They’re very highly regarded.
All I can say is that thus far — I’m still only at the beginning — it’s remarkable. I’m enchanted. More than normal, I can’t wait until bedtime.