There I was this morning, in bed, warm, just had an early morning pee, settling in for another hour's sleep. You know that sleep where you just drift away in a cocoon because it's warm and you're empty.
Ma: What time is it? I can't seem to make out what the clock's doing.
Me: 7 bloody 15.
Ma: Now I can see what it says.
Me: I bought you a clock with big letters, what's wrong with it?
Ma: It ticks too loud.
Ma: I think I got up before but I can't remember if I pressed the button and if I didn't do that then I didn't put the fire on for the cat.
Me: Terrific, we owe $400 on the gas bill and you're putting it on for the cat.
Ma: Well I do have my breakfast in there. Is it cold? What does the sky look like? My blinds aren't open.
Me: It's grey, it's cold and storms are forecast.
Ma: I'll be cold, I'd better put the fire on. CLUNK.
And after that I got up and cut down the last branch before the predicted storm. It was so top heavy with spindly branches and leaves I could barely drag it through the double gates. After that I went back to bed for a very long time.
I hurt now, again.
5.05 pm and it still hasn't stormed.