Well that's been a horrible couple of days.

Mutterings continued.

Saturday good. Shopped, had yummy food for dinner, watched Mistie and Firefly (last episode, sadly), good company.

Sunday, at about 6.46am, was staggering back to bed from the loo when the phone rang. It was Armadale Hospital Emergency - Dad had been admitted with breathing difficulties and was fretting that Mum was left alone. Didn't have time for a shower ("That explains the smell." says Mum when I told her), got to her place at 7.30, spent the day with her, took her to visit Dad in hospital, made her dinner and then felt incredibly guilty at leaving her alone. I'd spoken to her visiting nurse from Silver Chain who said Mum was much better than she had been and that could probably be left. I rang her at 4pm, having left about an hour before, to have the phone answered by my brother who was not pleased with me for leaving her alone. They took her to their place to stay with them until Dad was coming out of hospital.

I rang Dad in hospital this afternoon and started worrying when he didn't answer. Finally the phone was answered by the cleaner who told me he'd been discharged and was waiting to be picked up.

Long story short, he's home, Mum's home, they've both been so well fed by my sister-in-law/Gallier Private Hospital (he's a returned soldier so he gets to stay in nice places like Gallier and Hollywood) that they don't feel like any dinner. Dad's chest x-rays confirmed that there's nothing wrong other than severe bronchitis and a couple of cracked ribs. The cracked ribs he's had for over a year - because of the bronchitis and emphysema, he coughs a lot and this could have caused the problem.

And I'm feeling as guilty as all hell. Only daughter, eldest child, etc. *sigh*

And now the good news, there was a parcel on the doorstep from Nick, my recent visitor from Huddersfield. It was a copy of Tim Winton's Dirt Music, a book Nick loves. He was delighted to discover it has a soundtrack, which he bought over East when he was in Oz.

Sort of good news, I got what I thought was a bill from HBF for my ambulance contributions. Turns out it was a letter advising I can claim 30% on my tax return. It's only $14 but every little helps.

Here come da judge. GenghisCon Quiz Night - July 29. This is the event that Rob, Leece, and myself (with the help of sundry others), have won the last two, or is it three?, years. This year, we're not competing. No, we're going to be judges. Re bribery - let me say this here and now, I have never and will never, be opposed to bribery if it a. means we're going to win, or b. means I'm going to get stuff. I def. can't state that bribery will help quiz contestants win but if you do wish to consider laying tasty comestibles at our feet, you will be looked upon fondly. And that's all I'm going to say. Except this, I don't like Maltesers but I do like Mars Bars.

I've been looking at Paris hotels online, tying to find one I can afford, and I've just realised that I've been reading them in French without realising it. I mean, I didn't have to consciously translate from French to English, I just 'knew' that "1 personne avec bain, douche, WC" means "1 person with bath, shower, WC". The French lessons finally paid off! Just found a hotel in the Latin Quarter, near Notre Dame, for 55 euro. Not bad! And I've just noticed it's off the Boulevard Saint Michel - where you keep your Rolling Stones records, and a friend of Sacha Distel, yes you do, yes you do.

While we're on Peter Sarstedt, I love his "Frozen Orange Juice". It's one of those evocative songs that take me back to the 60's whenever I hear it.