I have been at the hospital all night as Lesley had a bad reaction to some of the medication she is being given. She is now stable again and I am at home, wishing I could hear her whistling. All her things are here, her books on birds, bugs, plants, astronomy, literature, her guitar, her whistles, but it is so quiet. She always whistles or sings or crashes about falling over things; it is never quiet when she is here. I hate it.
A good thing is now that a lot of the medication is stopped or reduced she may wake up. I shall be going back after a quick rest and coffee, and I shall play bad whistle music on the guitar. That should wake her!
Thank you all again for your love and support.
"Some ladies are foolish, some ladies are gay.
Some ladies are comely, some live while they may.
My lady’s a wild flying dove, my lady is wine.
She whispers each evening she’s mine, mine, mine.
She likes pretty pictures,
She loves singing birds.
She’ll watch them for hours
But I see only her.
She tells me she’s learning
How full her cup can be.
She asks me to help her
But I know she’s teaching me."
Thank you, Tom Paxton. That was for Lesley.
Roland (mr devondancer)
