Durme Durme

Just 90 minutes sleep and it was Mary's hysterical barking at the bantam cockerels that dragged me up out of my bed. 

This was just after midday, so after making a cuppa and eggs on toast I lay back down on the sofa only to be woken minutes later by the postman who was manfully trying to slot twenty five postcards through the letterbox as Mary tried to savage his fingers ( a great game she inherited from William) 

I gave up with the thought of sleep and pottered around the cottage until 4pm when, after walking the dogs and lighting the fire I climbed into the arm chair for a doze.

The phone rang
It was my neighbour Trevor in his sing song Welsh voice
"Hello John Bach! I'm at the hospital!"
My 95 year old friend had driven himself to the hospital for an earlier appointment where the consultant had found out that he had a serious problem with his foot. He was now sat in A&E with a massive surgical boot on and couldn't get home.
I drove down to the hospital and after a few false starts found Trevor in a side room with a specialist nurse practitioner.
"I'm glad you're here" she said "you can do the injections"
She and Trevor were obviously waiting to go home
Apparently Trevor had injured his tendons rather badly and needed daily anti coagulation injections as well as the support of a giant boot. He was sat cheerfully in a chair with a couple of crutches.
I eyed the crutches and reminded the nurse that Trevor lived in a split level bungalow which had a steep drive and a dozen steps
"Has he been assessed by the physio for steps?" I asked
The nurse shot off to find one
Of course it was four thirty and they all had gone home
I did the assessment!
Minutes later I piled Trevor, his crutches, medications and sharp box in Bluebell and we were off for home.
"Shall we pick you up some tea?" I asked Trevor who had been at the clinic most of the day
"I fancy fish and chips!" Trevor said, so we stopped at the local fish and chip shop where they cooked Trevor's meal from fresh.
It was almost dark when we got back to the village
I got Trevor out of Bluebell, arranged his crutches safely, removed the fish and chip supper, meds and the like and asked for his house keys.
"I've left them in the car!" Trevor said open eyed
The car was at the hospital!
I piled Trevor, the chip supper , the meds and the crutches back into Bluebell and drove back to the hospital in rush hour traffic.
I was near A&E when Trevor piped up with a quiet "The car is not here its at the Park and Ride"
We drove in silence to the park and ride!
It was pitch black when we finally got back to the village, not good conditions for a 95 year old to negotiate a steep drive in crutches for the first time.
I spied Meirion Jones walking his dog in the lane and recruited his help.
Between us we finally got Trevor, his meds, crutches and fish and chip supper safely back into the house......
I made it to choir just as Jamie, the  1940s RAF moustached Choir master started his warm ups.
Alto Ann slipped me a postcard for the competition before we started to learn the beautiful Jewish lullaby Durme, Durme ( which Ironically means "Sleep Sleep) ....and I more or less forgot just how tired I was

Alto Ann's postcard

take a few moments to listen to this version

I think our efforts were on a par