sunday morning frost

This morning broke in bright sunshine, but yesterday's thaw froze solid last night leaving the roads and pavements extremely treacherous. A friend informs me you can't accuse an inanimate object (in this case ice) of high treason, but I fear he misses the point: it is only an example of the literary device known as "personification", the attribution of human characteristics to objects and has been in use at least since the time of Shakespeare. In this context the term refers to conditions which appear to be innocuous, but in reality are highly dangerous for those foolish enough, or alternatively forced by circumstances, to venture out on the streets. A case in point is my father-in-law, who somehow dragged himself down to the corner shop to secure the Sunday papers, miraculously avoiding serious injury. And short of chaining him to his armchair, there's no way to stop him doing it, regardless of whatever danger might lurk under foot.

Speaking of him, we had a call mid morning from the care company, who now visit 3 times a day, to tell us they were worried he might have a chest infection. They were thinking of calling the doctor out, but were aware that there could be a delay of several hours between calling the doctor and him (or her) actually showing up. So instead I said I would go round and assess the situation myself. So, armed with my stethoscope and prescription pad just in case, I popped round and confirmed my suspicion gained by talking to him on the phone, namely that there was no real problem. But the only way to be sure was to examine his chest for myself.