A wonderfully atmospheric post. A magic melange of images.
‘There was a bird flying round the house,’ the Boxer told me. She had no answer for what happened to it?or, how did it get in and out.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘but it looked quite startled.’
‘i expect you were startled too.’
‘I expect I was,’ she said vaguely, ‘but it was early.’
These days I suspect a slight detachment from reality. Lost in her thoughts she will not answer plain questions deflecting them with vague answers like, I can’t think right now, or I don’t know, you decide. Till I’m unsure whether this is simply because of the effort needed to answer or decide, or whether she actually doesn’t know anymore.
Things have slipped that once were sacrosanct. Take reading the newspaper cover to cover and marking up television programmes not to be missed.
Now, not only are the TV choices not made, but the ability to…
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Christina James, crime novelist 
Rather poignant, this. I like the glimmer of humour at the end too!