Weather variable to nice....

These are some of the last photos I shot. The Volksgarten on the 28th... love that light at this time of year.







The 29th wasn't so hot, and it got worse. The view from Peter's room...






Today is a horriday. November 1st, unofficially 'go to the cemetery day'. Dorle called this morning and asked if Peter was still in LKH, I said yes, and she asked about visiting him.

I said, 'I thought you have to do stuff at the cemetery.'

'The dead can wait, they're dead, after all. The living can't.'

Well, that IS true enough... She added that she had bought him a hair clipper machine. I was so thankful, he was beginning to look like Rasputin. So I explained how to find him out there, and said I'd be around about one o'clock, as usual, and she got him out of bed and onto a chair, and went to work on him. I said something about his 'fly-away' sparse hair and it took her a moment to process, but she cracked up over that.

And I said something like, 'This is scarier than Hallween. Who KNOWS what is gonna come to the fore and what's behind all that hair.'

I mentioned I was going to stop at Subway on the way home to pick up something to eat before I transferred to the bus. Dorle wanted to know where it is, and how it works. A light dawned. She said Günther had had his first one in Louisiana, of all places, told his friends he had eaten a Subway there, and they scoffed, and said, 'There ARE no subways there, let alone EAT one. Come ON....' So he told them what it was. (I have a sneaking suspicion that she scoped it out on her way home today...) Looks like Günther still has that devilish sense of humour after all these years.

She stayed for an hour and we were out in front of the building because it was mild, in the sinners corner for smokers. Dorle made a remark, and I said, this is stellar, you should see the one in front of the next building, it looks like a cage.'

I was grateful that she stayed. She had brought him an 80% chocolate bar with chili in it. I brought him two blueberry muffins from the bakery at the end station, so he was more than happy. I like the muffins, because they don't have much sugar, and taste very good. (He only gets those on Sundays and horridays because the supermarket is closed. Normally I bring him some fruit, or a low-cal 'samwich'.

Whatever, we had a nice chat altogether, and Peter didn't do one of his rants about nurses and meds. So he was having a 'good' day.

No talk about the North Sea or Rimini.... Bless her. I think it did him good.