Another kind of horriday.... moving day...

Yesterday, Peter turned seventy. The one day a year he gets cake. Made a soup, and shrimp risotto. But was mostly busy packing for him.

Today he gets moved into a handicapped appartment. It's taken two years to get it all done, and am glad, because I can get him in and out of the house by myself. I just couldn't do that heavy lifting over the ten stairs by myself any more where he is now.

After over fifteen years in the Mühlgasse it has been hard on him emotionally. And will mean my getting a monthly bus pass in order to get there and back on a daily basis, as it is quite a way across town, but better than all that lifting....

Our GP was reluctant about doing his weekly house call, 'because it is so far', but that seems odd, as the guy has a car. I think he wants Peter in hospital because of his foot, and Peter is refusing. And the good doctor will probably refuse to treat him if he doesn't go....

Whatever, today is moving day, and that is always a horror for me.... And he will piss and moan.... right.