Not my Daily Diary Monday 20th October 2026 #DementiaAwareness Finding programmes to watch last night wasn’t difficult. Mainstream TV had scheduled at least five hours of viewing suitable for Chris and watchable for me. We settled down, cuddled together, to spend an evening of entertainment. Strictly Come Dancing results weren’t really a surprise. Chris hasn’t said yet that she has a favourite, but I’m happy to say Graeme Hall, the dog whisperer, my favourite, got through. We watched Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. As each question is asked, Chris asks me the answer. Mostly I wished I knew; I would be on there myself. We enjoyed London’s luxury landmark, the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. The history behind it was fascinating, and it was a memorable show for me. I was lucky enough to stay there for a night in a suite in the 1970s, courtesy of my boss at the time. Then it was known as the Hyde Park Hotel, but still luxurious. A new programme we both enjoyed was Kevin McCloud’s Classic Car Trips, where he toured the South of France in a 60-year-old Citroën DS. The downside is that we spent ten years touring the South of France on holidays. There were so many memories, but reminding Chris would only upset her. The times I wanted to say “Done that, bought the T-shirt" but I daren’t. Then there was The Antiques Roadshow. Chris loves to see the presenter. Poor Fiona Bruce, who hasn’t a clue, always gets the values wrong in Basic Better or Best. Chris always laughs at that. But I had a laugh tonight at Chris’s expense. She spotted my nightly whisky and decided she fancied a sip. Dementia has changed her tastes more than once, so I thought, why not? Maybe this time she’d like it. She took the tiniest sip, hardly wet her tongue, and the look on her face was pure torture. Contorted, eyes watering, the full grimace. She almost spat it straight out and accused me, quite seriously, of trying to poison her. I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. She was not impressed. I was in stitches. Another little moment to treasure in the middle of all this. At least I know my whisky is safe. It was an ordinary night in the best possible way. We finished the night the way we always do, doing the lounge shuffle — our little dance to Elvis’s “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You”. Then I packed her off to bed with 22 Kids and Counting, while I came down and finished my whisky in silence. It took ages for us to get to sleep. I just couldn't, my mind was working overtime. It wasn’t helped when I woke in the morning to find I hadn’t won £20 million on the lottery after all. My dream had seemed so real. Disappointed, I got up just after nine. I was tired but I had a lot to do. Book a blood test (which we can’t get until the end of the month), chase a missing prescription the chemist hadn’t received, only to find the doctor hadn’t pressed “send”, and there was a mountain, alright, a hillock, of ironing to do. That took up the rest of the morning while I listened to music. I do love our turbo steam iron. It was time to get Chris up. She wanted to go to Merry Hill shopping centre for a Greggs sausage roll and a latte. It’s something of a routine now. I wish I knew what was in her mind with this outing, but she just says she enjoys going. probably hoping we will buy another dress. Merry Hill was busy, but we were lucky enough to park outside the entrance. The first shop we passed was Roman, the dress shop, and I spied a dress in the window that was so Chris. I couldn’t resist it, even though we had agreed no new clothes. Back home, dinner was sole fillets smothered in a home made spicy tomato sauce and diced potatoes roasted with tinned tomatoes blended with mixed spices (but no paprika). It’s such a compliment when Chris eats all of her meal. We are back with a challenge this evening to find something to watch — the joy of being a carer. Have a lovely evening or day, wherever you are in the world. Keith and Chris xx