I cycled over to Mum's and cared for her for several hours. Rain was brewing again so I decided to sketch Dad's old chair while I was there and just do a ride afterwards. Mum sat watching me and trying to remember the words of 'Ain't it good to be blooming well dead'. I wrote some of it down, then ran out of space as she remembered, or made up some more...There goes Aunt Sally , she ain't got no knickers and here comes the pervert, can you see, it's the vicar! Then 10 km ride up and down the hills to Manuka.