This was Graham’s day to go over to spend time with his mother, fixing things and doing chores she can’t manage herself. And talking.
It’s the talking that makes it best I find some business of my own to do. I can’t cope with the sheer volume of talk that goes on when Graham and his mother are in full stream. It’s quality talk, make no mistake. But the volume is more than I can handle. [Perhaps 'quantity' would be a better word choice, not that there's much amiss with the quality.]
So I drove away, called in at the post office in Rhos to post a parcel to Greece, and came home to snuggle up with Dolly. I though it’d be a long snuggle but I was wrong.
I slipped out from under the covers, leaving her stretched out so as to take full advantage of the still-warm radiator, and wandered into the bathroom for, well, bathroom activities.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror. To my astonishment, I could see clearly. I pulled my lower eyelid down. White. The whites of my eyes are, well, white again. Glory be. And my vision is back as close as it’s ever going to be to 20/20 again in this life time. Double glory be. I’m feeling good.
I plodded back in to give Dolly a scritty-scratch, and determined than my snuggle was fully done. Over done, if truth be known. I no longer need that great quantity of sleep.
So, long story suitably shortened, I sent Graham a text to let him know what I was up to, jumped into the car, and motored over to Carmarthen for lunch.
Haven’t done Carmarthen on my own for some years. Last time, unless I’m greatly mistaken, was when we were living in Wales at Llangennech and the little blue Ford needed an annual service.
It was bitter cold on that day and today, while not quite so bitter, it was cold enough. Except that the sun shone and the town looked good. At least, the bits of the town that have been done up looked good. They’ve done a fair amount of work but there’s a great deal left to do. For my sake, they’d be well advised to spend some money cleaning up the chewing gum splats on the pavements. It was fine, though. And they’ve cleaned up the soldier on the war memorial, removing decades of grey and revealing the white marble underneath. I appreciate that.
War memorial, Carmarthen
And, behind the soldier and to his left, I discovered to my delight that the Wimpy restaurant is still there, and still serving a burger meal on a china plate with decent metal cutlery. I appreciated that, too.
Wimpy, Carmarthen
So, Carmarthen is back within my horizon. I shall reserve judgement as to whether or not that’s a good thing, and certainly not finalize my feelings on the matter until I get to enjoy the town on a warm, sunny day. I seem to remember that it feels completely different on a warm, sunny day. But then, don’t we all?
