Evening all. I'm writing in ED's bedroom, with her dozing in bed next to me, half listening to brass bands on the radio - National Youth Brass Band Awards or something. Think 'Brassed Off' - which is worth a look if you haven't seen it - a comedy set in the world of closing coal mines and dying colliery bands, starring Ewan McGregor, of course.

Anyway, as predicted, I feel much better being up here with ED than I do being at home thinking about her. She is fading, no denying that, hardly speaking at all, though when she does it's good and loud. I love being with her so much - we're companionable together, just relaxed and chilled (with odd bursts of agitation and intermittent well-disguised despair).

Spring is beginning to emerge in little pockets - mostly all the trees are still bare, but on my drive up I came to a halt by this lovely bit of greenery:



and the weeping willow by my smoking veranda in the home is on its way:



The clocks go forward this weekend which makes it official in my book. This was yesterday afternoon:



And this was the lake we visited today:



It was beautiful but getting there was a mission. I'm going to have to get the sat-nav app on my phone as it's just too tricky driving to places you don't know without a navigator. I used the AA route-finder (that's the automobile association, not the alcoholics) and made notes before we left but for local journeys it's useless, saying things like 'turn left into Farmhouse Lane' without telling you how many left turns you have to pass first and ignoring the fact that hardly any lanes have the name on a sign. So we travelled an interesting route, with several three-point turns and quite a lot of asking directions (thank god I'm a woman and not hormonally prevented from asking for help) so by the time we arrived I was quite mental, not enhanced by being unable to disentangle the wheelchair from all its bloody safety straps for almost five long, long minutes. Still, we made it and walked all round the lake, sitting every now and then for me to have a smoke and a listen to the birds. ED's face gradually assumed a very peaceful look - the combination of fresh air, nature and Mum is generally a winner.

When we came back I had a lie down on her bed and that was when she started talking, quite random stuff. "Pop!" she said. "That's an interesting word. It can mean many different things." She's not wrong, is she? And, "Auto and Phyllis." What? "Auto and Phyllis!" indignantly, followed by silence for ten minutes or so then, "Where are all the words?"
"Which words?"
"The words from that language I'm learning."
Well, we did have a phase of trying to learn some basic Romanian to say hello to her carers who were from there and were bloody lovely, but I've forgotten it now. I know one of the words sounded like something off an Indian restaurant menu (just looked it up, Bună Ziua), but I couldn't find it so we settled on thank you in Portuguese as there are loads of Portuguese staff here - bligado. Don't know how that's written but that's how it sounds - probably has a silent o in front. I don't know how I can manage this kind of chat with my once brainiac daughter but at the time it's really OK.

While she had her evening meal I sloped off into Posh Village to eat in an Italian place that does cheap set menus before six. It was full of Italians, so I sat with my back to the window and pretended I was in Italy - honestly, they were like teenagers, all of them talking at once, so no one listening to anyone else.



That was my pud - afogato - or espresso coffee poured over home made vanilla ice cream. Delicioso.

She's asleep now so I'll sign off and go for one last smoke before bed. She looks so precious asleep.

Today I am grateful for: time with my girl; having a van to get lost in; helpful people out and about; spring!!!; sleeping pills

Sweet dreams, dear ones