I don’t know whether I’m coming or going at the moment. I was so hungry the yesterday, that I had to go over and take a biscuit that was meant to be for some stroke patients. They just looked at me, but I had to take one. I’d only had a Scotch egg all day and I was about to faint. It’s all because your father’s stopped buying my usual Cadbury Twirls and I’m having withdrawal. He goes to Lidl and gets these foreign things, but they’re just not the same. He said he’d bought me a treat the other day and it turned out to be a bottle of bleach. I mean, what can you do?
So I’ve had to go to Tesco myself and now I’ve got myself set up for the week with six Twirls.
And I’ve not slept properly, because there was a police helicopter hovering over the garden for half an hour last night and policemen chasing a criminal through the garden. It’s shook me right up. And your father just lies there in bed reading. Can you believe it? And to cap it all, someone went on Tripadvisor and said that there are no antiques at Dagfields. They’ve obviously not been to my unit. I was incensed. I ought to post a reply, but I’m too bloody exhausted.
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