I didn't get around to posting yesterday and telling you about the lovely new 3 seater suede-look microfibre lounge/couch/sofa [ pick your term of linguistic preference ]
This morning I discovered that, despite the 2 quilts I had put on there as dog-proof couch covers, one of the cats had decided to sharpen its claws on the front of an arm rest.
I now know who the culprit is - in all probability - because I wasn't fast enough to stop Oakley doing the same to the OTHER arm rest about 5 minutes ago.
I now having matching sets of tiny holes in my brand new, waited for about 4 years, much anticipated couch.
Tomorrow I get on a plane for my first real break in over a decade and fly down to Tassie until Friday.
I'm only just letting myself get excited about this.
Sounds more than a little fatalistic I know, but I think somewhere deep in the back of my head, I was afraid that if I allowed myself to believe it, then something would happen to cock it up.
I have been negotiating for months and months for Carer funding for David and as a result there will be people coming to live in each afternoon/evening and to get him up and off to his Day Placement.
It WAS supposed to be one person - whom he knew - but of course in the ongoing saga, that didn't happen. Two people, two days each, one he'd never met until yesterday.
writing lists for this man that doesn't know dave
I'm going to need a holiday after this !!