Shake, rattle and roll.

Farmer next door who regularly appears sporting half a sack around his shoulders, has been out in his tractor this morning. His imminent departure is heralded by loud clattering and shaking of the foundations, before he chunters past the window, partially obscured by large cloud of blue smoke. I shudder to think what his emissions must be. Actually, let's not go there. The other morning he pressed his weather beaten face up against window, very close to where I was reclining on sofa, and peered in, which unexpected apparition made me squeak with alarm. Transpired he needed someone to hold his ladder steady while he climbed up to clean out the gutter. Two was reluctantly pressed into service. Is actually kind of Farmer next door, as he cleans out our guttering as well. Trouble is, he attracts the attention of 'walkers' who are passing by, and engages them in quite lengthy conversations, leaning perilously sideways from his lofty perch. Following this exercise, Two complained his arm hurt and produced elastic bandage (he has a large assortment), which he then wore for 24 hours non-stop.

This morning was Pill Sorting. This exercise is highly complicated, involving as it does the myriad medications Two is taking for his various ailments. Pills of different hues are rattled out on the table and sorted. The three pill boxes, each segmented for days of the week, are filled and snapped shut like so many train doors. Two has also created a Pill Spread Sheet on computer. This, like so much else about Two, is very worrying.