Spring has sprung...

Bright and cheerful crocuses - a few flowers blew away in the gales the other week, but plenty more have followed on.

It's been a lovely sunny day here in Liverpool. John was feeling sufficiently recovered to go for a swim this afternoon, and take a bit of a walk along Otterspool Prom amongst the kite-flyers and other strollers.

Yesterday we drove over to Clatterbridge in the afternoon to visit my father. I thought he seemed less well than the last time I saw him, about 2 weeks ago I think, but it's hard to tell. Maybe it's just disorientation after being moved. But he was pleased to see us.

He has a label around his wrist saying something like "Danger of Falling", and I was relieved to see he is now in a bed with side bars. He kept getting out of bed before (on the last ward), but didn't manage to use the frame he'd been given. Instead of leaning on it he just carried it around. Dr R will be doing a ward round on Tuesday or Wednesday, so hopefully we will get a better idea of how things are going after that.

Some of the freesias the girls gave me for Mothering Sunday are still flowering, and they still smell wonderful. John can't smell freesias. And it's my favourite flower because of its perfume. He brought me a bunch into LMH when I'd just had Sarah. I woke in the night, and smelled them, and cried. Felt so lonely, and touched he had remembered how I liked freesias even though he can't smell them. Plus was terrified at having a baby - I'd never even held a baby before I was being trundled on a trolley through the bowels of the hospital clutching Sarah to me and scared I was going to drop her.

Of course that was back in the days when you were kept in for 10 days as standard. But I was chucked out after 7 as they needed the bed. So some things haven't changed!