Peppers

No, it's not a salad, these are the bits I'm throwing away.  A bag of twelve mixed peppers for £2.50 have been washed, cut into strips and are freezing on an open tray as I type.  They'll be bagged when 'done'. They were the first job of the day, but I woke at 4 and never got back to sleep.  

**B had come round yesterday for the first time in two months. He seemed incredibly matter of fact about only being given months to live... but he can't really be, surely?  His cancer is attached to the pancreas but also wrapped right around a major blood vessel which (he assumes although has no confirmation) could rupture at any time with the growth of the tumour.  It doesn't bear thinking about really, but for his sake and because there will be others wailing, I remained calm.

We've known each other since the end of December 2016 and, although I'm not in love with him, I'm very, very fond of him... so I guess that's akin to love.  So this morning I woke up worrying that I wouldn't know when he'd died, that his children wouldn't realise that I existed and would like to be told - his son lives in NZ and his daughter in Canada. But his son has now come over to be with him until the end, and in response to my email B has promised to tell his son to let me know.  A bizarre and horrible situation.

Now I need a walk, but there are very few Ramblers ones on a Friday so I'll take myself off somewhere very shortly and have some thinking time.

**Italics are edited