We had another disturbed night. Diane was feeling rough and decided to pop downstairs for a glass of milk. That didn't do the trick, but it did open the floodgates. She is looking very pale and washed out today and has spent much of it sitting in the Orangery, making the most of the warm sun and absence of any commitments.
I stayed close by in case anything was needed. Another book disappeared while she was recuperating. She insisted that she was well enough for me to take a walk, so I headed out on a slightly shorter route so that I wouldn't be gone for too long.
The planned roast pork dinner was cancelled and I put some butterflied chicken breasts on the griddle and served them with some new potatoes. This was simple and plain, but easily digested. She's feeling better than she was, but hopefully, a good night's sleep will settle things.
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