Tuesday

A busy day for Lesley today – taking some of her dad’s stuff to charity shops, a visit to the daycentre that he used to go to with things the charity shops won’t take, a quick visit to his house for a regular check and lunch with friends.

Getting ready to go all got a bit much and the mental checklist was missing a few items. She ended up leaving without her phone, her wallet and his house keys. We know we’re both a lot less stressed than we were but neither of us are back to whatever ‘normal’ is.

Me and The Dog being left to our own devices meant slipping back into the routine we had when Lesley was out visiting her dad every day. There aren’t many rules for days like these. Basically, they boil down to the walk being longer, quicker and messier than when Lesley’s with us and I don’t question where The Dog wants to go.

The route was an old favourite that we haven’t done for weeks – into the village and home via the nature reserve. We cross the railway line using the footbridge and that means having to use the lift. The Dog has loved a ride in a lift right from when she first arrived with us. Our best guess is that someone she liked in one of her previous homes lived in a flat. Our best guess is that the friend in the flat was the person who taught her ‘Sit’, ‘Paw’ and ‘This Way’ because those commands were really well set.

I wasn’t expecting the water in the lake to be as clear as it was. Normally by the middle of July the hot weather makes the water distinctly murky and we don’t allow The Dog to go in due to the risk of blue-green algae. I thought it looked clear enough to take a chance. As per usual, I got as wet as The Dog.

Once we’d got home and hosed down I carried on with sorting through and organising Lesley’s dad’s art materials. His basic daily kit filled a large toolbox. After gathering all the gear together from the various places in his house where he stored stuff the collection had grown to fill a further four large toolboxes. We were in grave danger of being able to see some of the surface of the dining table and the breakfast table but it still looked like every flat surface of the house had some art or creative paraphernalia on it.

Lesley was impressed by the progress when she got home.

“Yeah, we’ve had a good day. All the tubes and pans of paint are sorted and in a toolbox. I only just managed to fit it all in one toolbox.”

“Wow! That’s great! What’s that pile there?”

“More paintings…”

I lifted the pile so Lesley could get a better look. Underneath were four more fully loaded watercolour palettes.

Bloody hell.

Author’s Note

My Mum was in a nursing home in the Thames Valley for a year and a half until she passed away in December 2024. My Father-in-law went into the same home the following January. But Lesley’s sister didn’t approve and made the situation so awkward that he had to be moved. He passed away in March 2025. Names and locations have been changed or hidden to protect the identities of those involved.

Image Credit

Original Image by Nick Gilmore. June 2025.