The 1.5 litres of blood have turn my mother around. When I saw her today she was full of life, she even had a go at writing with a different grip (her middle finger is of less and less use, and I used to be a teacher); I went and bought her a drawing pad and a set of felt pens and she spent a happy few minutes colouring in the design on the front of the pad.

I was on one of the many, many buses of the last week, when a cute Community police type woman sat in front of me. I noticed she had a black biro stuck in the back of her hair. I asked and she told me she put it there otherwise she would lose it; I complimented her on her resourcefulness and suggested she put two in like they were hair pins, so they would look planned, and she could still lose one and write things down.

My suggestion she got her significant other to buy her some nice pens prompted her to tell me that “unfortunatel” there was no significant other. What’s wrong with Crawley? Slim, young, short dark haired, good looking woman in a uniform with a giggle and a original look at life and on her own! She was on the No 2 bus to K2.

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