Emotionally drained at Thoresby Hall

A few hours on my own at Thoresby Hall, Nottinghamshire. Me and sal were down in South Yorkshire visiting her mum who had just lost her husband. As a family they were sorting out the funeral and I thought I was maybe intruding a bit so I got out of the house for an hour or two.

Thoresby Hall is one of my favourite places down in that neck of the woods. It is quieter than nearby Clumber Park and Rufford Abbey and certainly a lot quieter than Sherwood Forest! Plus it has a nice coffee shop which had just re-opened after lockdown.

After having had my first 'proper' cappuccino, I had a lovely stroll around the grounds, getting as far as the village of Perlethorpe. Looking behind, I could see dark rain clouds looming so I started to beat a hasty retreat. I hadn't got very far when the heavens opened. It threw it down, so much so that I had to take cover under a large old oak tree. I wasn't the only person caight out, a cyclist was doing the same under another tree.

After about 15 mins it eased off which gave me just enough time to get back to the car before it started again and carried on all the way back to Kiveton.

It had been good to get out because the walls were beginning to close in on me a bit. It's not a good time at the moment as everyone is finding it hard to deal with the situation, me included. It has long been a standing joke that I was the only person whom Sal's dad actually liked. I used to sit and listen to his past exploits (which were usually quite inappropriate and hilarious), tolerate his old-age grumpiness and, I hope, always treated him with the love and respect he deserved.

Dementia is a horrible illness. I will miss him and will always regret not knowing him during his younger, more active and illness-free days.