Another hot blue sky sunny day with a cooling light wind. When I got up to take my six o'clock antibiotic, a solitary blackbird was singing in the ravine beyond the garden, such a joy at this early hour. I was saddened to learn from Clare that my sister Pauline is still with us, but in such pain as her cardio-vascular system deteriorates, that she is now sedated with morphine. A plan to move her to a nursing home near Nicky's home is planned, but would she survive the journey? All we can do is keep watching and praying.
Before turning in last night, after surveying the fresh vegetable content of the fridge, I decided on impulse to cook a chick pea stew for the weekend. The idea, to use up as much as I could, in order to clear the contents and not have to throw food away at the last minute before leaving. I certainly have enough to feed Anthony and I for Saturday and Sunday.
Today Di invited us out to lunch at the Restaurant de Valle, popular with expat residents near Cala des Torrents. Clients are few and far between at the moment, but the place stays open for business, as apparently it through the winter, before lock-down enforced closure. I had sweet and sour pork ribs, followed by pork medallions (again) but in quite a different sauce, made with capers I think, and tarte tatin to follow. Again, it was a good meal in good company. Most enjoyable.
I finished the second course of antibiotics at lunchtime. On sister in law Ann's recommendation I'll continue with the three days surplus supply rather than take a break and wait to see what develops. I feel much better, and the wound is almost back to normal, but the swelling has not gone entirely and exudation hasn't stopped. If I get home as planned the antibiotics in my blood stream should keep me covered until further treatment is possible.
I had another visit from Elke at tea time, bringing a punnet of strawberries and a typical Ibiceno almond flavoured pastry, which I hadn't tasted before. We discussed the impact of the lock-down on the way we experience the world, and what it is teaching us about ourselves. Then we walked to the end of the track and back before parting company.
As I am obliged to submit details of my location during the fortnight's quarantine I have to endure on my return, I hunted down the required form on the internet and began to fill it in. Completion is impossible until 48 hours before the flight, just as in the same way you cannot check in on-line with BAe flights to obtain a boarding pass until 24 hours before. All this digital bureaucracy and there is still no guarantee the plane will fly as scheduled.
After supper to complete my daily distance, I walked down to the shore to catch the sun setting over the sea, but I was too late. I got just a few photographs instead of a lovely red tinged sky with slim strands of stratus clouds instead.
It's a hundred days today since I arrived in Ibiza. How the world has changed since then.
Today Di invited us out to lunch at the Restaurant de Valle, popular with expat residents near Cala des Torrents. Clients are few and far between at the moment, but the place stays open for business, as apparently it through the winter, before lock-down enforced closure. I had sweet and sour pork ribs, followed by pork medallions (again) but in quite a different sauce, made with capers I think, and tarte tatin to follow. Again, it was a good meal in good company. Most enjoyable.
I finished the second course of antibiotics at lunchtime. On sister in law Ann's recommendation I'll continue with the three days surplus supply rather than take a break and wait to see what develops. I feel much better, and the wound is almost back to normal, but the swelling has not gone entirely and exudation hasn't stopped. If I get home as planned the antibiotics in my blood stream should keep me covered until further treatment is possible.
I had another visit from Elke at tea time, bringing a punnet of strawberries and a typical Ibiceno almond flavoured pastry, which I hadn't tasted before. We discussed the impact of the lock-down on the way we experience the world, and what it is teaching us about ourselves. Then we walked to the end of the track and back before parting company.
As I am obliged to submit details of my location during the fortnight's quarantine I have to endure on my return, I hunted down the required form on the internet and began to fill it in. Completion is impossible until 48 hours before the flight, just as in the same way you cannot check in on-line with BAe flights to obtain a boarding pass until 24 hours before. All this digital bureaucracy and there is still no guarantee the plane will fly as scheduled.
After supper to complete my daily distance, I walked down to the shore to catch the sun setting over the sea, but I was too late. I got just a few photographs instead of a lovely red tinged sky with slim strands of stratus clouds instead.
It's a hundred days today since I arrived in Ibiza. How the world has changed since then.
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