The weather’s beautiful again now. Am up at my favourite spot by Dethick church.
The last few days have all been about paperwork: beginning the process of transferring Mum’s assets into Dad’s name. Mum’s will is very simple and leaves everything to Dad, except for £100 to her godson David. He’s her friend Chris’s son and is now a filthy rich banker living in New York.
I’m supposed to put a value on household goods too, but Mum and Dad live very simply and Mum had no jewellery to speak of.
I’ll also be applying for Attendance Allowance and a Blue Badge for Dad. He’s dramatically improved and is even taking Chloe out for a short walk every morning. Today the carers called me in consternation because he’s told them he doesn’t need them any more. I’m hoping he’ll reconsider and have at least one visit daily for another week or two.
In the hope of getting Dad more interested in food, I reordered a couple of favourite cookbooks that somehow got chucked out in their move last year: Delia and Mary Berry of course! Dad’s appetite is back but he still can’t really be bothered with preparing healthy things.
I spoke to my accountant this morning. As I have a Limited Company, I could furlough myself but would have to stop work entirely and would only be entitled to just over £500 per month. I’ll earn more by doing the bits of work that are dribbling in. Can’t help feeling a bit envious of self-employed colleagues who’ve just been granted a one-off grant of a few thousand.
Yesterday I had a day to myself and traded in my ancient Volvo estate for a newer, smaller model I’ve had my eye on since the start of lockdown. It felt good to do something nice for a change.
2022 and all that 