Had a flying dream - not the usual one of my youth soaring and sliding with the grace and speed of Superman.  This one started in a light plane.  Flying over crystal clear lakes south of Junction View, which doesn't have lakes, crystal clear or otherwise.   Then the plane disappeared and I just flew.  The flying was less exciting than the water, as clear as air, green, blue and gold seaweed undulating in a lazy current.  How I wanted to swim!

And then I was at a resort.  Taken four years to build I was told, cabins half hidden by trees.  I had a little black dog, like a motorized ugh boot.  It wasn't my dog and when I put it down to do its business it promptly disappeared.  Oh, it'll be checking out the 'long drops' the owner said, so we started searching.  Instead of outhouse pits the long drops were sandy and clean.   A monitor lizard was in one, a set of car keys in another. 

Water seems to be a theme (still haven't been to the beach!).  Two nights ago I dreamed of more than a dozen waterspouts on a stormy sea. 

Friday a friend will visit Richard and I won't.  It's cold but if it's not windy I'm going to the sea. 

He was agitated when I arrived yesterday.  One of the carers was with him in the room, both standing.  Richard is adjusting but he isn't adjusting.  He wants to make 'application' to come home and see the animals.  I feel the biggest kind of shit as I change the subject for of course he can't come home.  It would be cruel to bring him here only to take him back at the end of the day...if he got in the car and it wouldn't be stretching it to guess he'd refuse.

He has these moments of clarity and insight scattered amongst the rambling.  He said, you're life's pretty good now, isn't it?   I thrive while he suffers. ( Although it isn't quite so clear cut, she writes, tears threatening to spill over again).

Then I remind myself it took two people to get him up, changed and clean on Tuesday.  He'd wet himself and the bed and had tried to call the nurse using the bed adjuster.  One carer was large and burly.  I had to sit outside but I heard them say the same things I would say, "Put your hand here, no, not there, Richard, here.  That's it.  Now lift that foot, just move it a bit, yes, that's it.  Hang on to me.  Now the other foot.  Can you stand up?  Try and get your feet underneath you.  You won't balance otherwise.  No, back a bit further, yes, now the other foot.  Maybe you want to spread them a little, help you balance.  Now up, hang on to me.  Look up, yes, straighten up, I've got you.  No?  Okay give it a minute, we'll try again.....and on it goes.

Took two of them 30 minutes.  And I sat in a chair in the hall and admired the freshly painted nails of one of the residents.  She proudly displayed them to me (and if I hurry they'll do mine too!) as she trundled past in her walker talking nonstop.