Patience of Job

Help-meets on my desk

Help-meets on my desk

A week ago we were promised that tomorrow Clive would be given a bed and a hoist to help him get away from the sofa where he’s lain now for almost six months.

This morning, seeing as we hadn’t heard anything, I phoned the technician who made the promise.

“Ah. I had it in mind to phone you. It won’t be this week, but maybe next. I’ll phone you tomorrow with a new date.”

I don’t know what a statue of Job would look like, but my Buddha paperweight exudes an air of calm and my ‘worry sheep’ offers its compressible body to be squeezed in moments of frustration.

A few things are rooting for us.

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