In which the Rodent spends a lot of time with one taxi driver.

First he took me to the hospital, for my pain clinic appointment. I went in, announced myself, handed over the letter, had it explained to me in small words that today is Wednesday the 16th of January, and not Tuesday the 15th of January. Or, as I'd been thinking, Wednesday the 15th. At least I had the right month.

They don't redo appointments for first timers who fail to show. Unless they're very, very stupid - apparently rank daftness gives you a free pass. I think I'll get Pol to enter my new appointment in the calendar so this doesn't happen again.

So then I called for a taxi, and they said back to $street? I said no, to the railway station. Back comes the driver, surprised to see me so soon and thinking he was taking me home again. I explained about being daft and wanting to buy train tickets while he took me to the railway station, where I bought train tickets, turning down late-night travel for £14 and plumping for a £62 return in the afternoon. Rush hour travel would be £245. It's not where you go, it's when you go...

Back into the same taxi, this time to home, as expected. We talked about train tickets and the prices, and then travel to Spain, and then about Seville! That was an easy subject, although he knew the parts I wasn't so aware of. I discovered I can't remember the name of any of the districts.

Now in and sitting down reluctant to move again today, and with Moth purring her heart out by my side, just where I can reach out and scratch her head. She seems happier now she's got wet food and will forgive me for yesterday soon.

Moth's fit and well and vaccinated, but she does not like being in a car for hours at a time, so we're changing vet. It's a shame, because Crown House Vets in Rochdale have been excellent to us and I don't want to leave. Moth disagrees, especially if she has to travel for an hour, then get rained on all the way to the door, then stuck with a needle (the part she minds least because she looooooooves vets), then back again, and, horror of horrors, not even a drop of evaporated milk, or even tuna cat food. Just dry biscuits and water. Poor cat.

Thanks to Pol, this deficit has since been remedied.

In which the Rodent had its second flute lesson.

I don't like being awake at 2am, but it's a step closer to normal living; it's 'morning'. Another couple of days and I'll be back on everyone else's schedule, which makes it much easier to shop. Actually, even waking at 5am isn't bad for being ready to move when the shops are open, it just makes socialising a little difficult. Ideally, I wake at about 10 or 11, breakfast at 12ish and am ready to move at around 2pm.

My second flute lesson went well. I'd apparently put in enough practice to be able to play along to the music, and Alexandra seemed pleased. Today we covered the note A and had a look at G but my fingers cramped. Next time. I like her a lot.
After two lessons so close together, the next one is not for a long time, because of the trip to London. Which reminds me, I have to either get Barclays to make my card work with lboody Visa Verify (it works for everything else), OR get to a train station and buy cards manually from a person. For now, I have no tickets and the lack of getting is going to cost me.

The cat carrier is down for the trip to Crown House Vet in Rochdale. Moth was eyeing it dubiously. She gets catnip from there, but also trips to the vet, so she is not sure whether it being around is a Good Thing or a Bad Thing. She's compromised in settling down by my side in a cottage loaf shape and purring loudly to remind me that she's exactly where my hand will reach.