2nd March Diary Entry

Up early and note March has indeed come in like lamb. Note to self, see if old adage holds true at end of month. Spend some minutes admiring sun glistening on fields, distant view of grazing sheep etc. but idyll cut cruelly short by faint sound of fart floating downstairs. Decide Fresh Air is order of day, and set off on own to village. We need bread, but end up buying lemon meringue pie, yoghurt, milk, bottle white wine, assorted confectionary and no bread. Discover to my delight new antique shop has opened during the snowbound months, and can't resist quick browse. Try not to gasp in horror at exorbitant prices, but discover box of art deco pipes and cigarette holders. Have great passion for art deco, but regretfully do not possess necessary panache to sport amber cigarette holder outside pub. Also came across North American Peace Pipe, which I am assured is genuine. May be useful at times of marital discord, 'anything Sioux can do' ................etc.

Return home to find Two tweeting in yard. Wonder if he is only man in country, possibly world, tweeting without benefit of computer. He has spotted a bird he is unable to identify, and there is a rush to consult 'Birds of Britain'. He presently announces it must be female blackbird, but has issues with size and colour of beak. I concur, and just then my mobile phone gives forth the mournful bleep indicating the battery is low, so escape upstairs to re-charge. Coming back down after 'Much Faffing About', I find Two has abandoned bird book, and seems keen to impart to me extremely complicated plot of film he watched last night. Half-way through incoherent (to me), explanation, his face suddenly changes and he says 'Oh no', or words to that effect. He is having One of His Turns, which are partial seizures related to his epilepsy. He developed this about five years ago and had two Grand Mal fits which were alarming to say the least. These are controlled by medication now, but he has these partial seizures which happen randomly. His jaw starts moving violently sideways in manner of over-exuberent cow chewing the cud, and his left eyelid bats up and down furiously. Following advice of neurologist I try to ascertain whether he is aware of me. I think he is, but he doesn't answer, and gradually comes back to normal. I write occurrence in diary as required by neurologist.

Day proceeds and by late afternoon temperature has dipped, and we need to light the fire. I have seconded this job to Two after I burned large unsightly hole in carpet, which necessitated purchase of hearth rug to conceal. Two is very efficient and extremely precise in placement of fire-lighters, kindling and coal. He wears surgical gloves for the procedure, a sight I find mildly disturbing. However splendid blaze is finally achieved. Spend evening in front of telly as usual.