Special birthday girl

I woke up late this morning with wound discomfort and found I'd leaked blood out of my dressing again. It's happened several times lately, and may be to do with being less active, sitting around for longer spells in the evening. Thankfully it wasn't a messy disaster, just a rather worrying repeat. There seems no simple way to relieve pressure from the wound area when I sit for any length of time. I have to move around often and not let it build up,and this inhibits both concentration and relaxation in different ways. I rang and booked an appointment for tomorrow morning to visit Riverside Wound Clinic for a check-up, but also, to ask advice about dressing and management of the wound, given recent changes.

Today is Clare's 75th birthday, and she was up early working out on her exercise bike while I cooked the porridge and laid breakfast. She opened her cards and presents afterwards, including two different CDs of 'cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason from Kath and Owain, plus from me, a CD of Catrin Ffinch playing works by John Rutter and another of Cerys Matthews singing a variety of traditional Welsh folk songs, plus a few hymns and choruses that are part of the core Welsh cultural repertoire - all beautifully played and interpreted. So many tunes I have known since childhood, though not the words, sadly. 

Clare's Welsh language enthusiasm puts me to shame. I keep on telling myself that I should make more effort to learn Welsh properly, but Spanish retains my enthusiasm. I notice and listen when I hear Spanish speakers in the park, and am pleased when I understand what I overhear. Many more people I hear speaking Welsh, but rarely do I find I understand what they say, and it doesn't grab my attention.

There was a fine damp misty rain for much of the day, very low cloud, I suppose in reality. Clare and I went out to the shops together and I went out again separately later for a walk in the park, and to see if I could buy a nice pastry to serve as a mini-birthday cake. Unfortunately the small tart I bought had a custard filling, which is verboten in Clare's dairy free diet. So I scooped out the content, and replaced it with recently made blackberry puree plus soya cream, which, with a few candles around the flaky pastry case made just about the smallest birthday cake imaginable. I was also delighted to get a bunch of roses in an unusual shade of pink.

At eight after supper, we had a Zoom call with Owain, Kath, Anto and Rhiannon, plus Rachel and her friend Patrick. It's the first we've done for a month or so, occasioned by Owain and Kath being unable to come and join us to celebrate in person today. The call sped by, and we ran out of time before we could say goodbye or sing happy birthday, but it was lovely to be together anyway. I lost count of the number of phone calls and messages Clare had today. Such a happy time for her. Love laughs at lock-downs, and without violating restrictions or putting anyone at risk, admittedly these days, it's thanks to technology.

Just about every urban borough in Wales is now under restrictions to curb the contagion. We've got used to accepting limitations on our activities for reasons infirmity over the past eighteen months, so this has hardly any impact on us. It must be a nightmare for people whose entire work, domestic and social lives rely on their mobility.