On Thursday I got a phone call from my brother, who is a consultant at a hospital, to tell me that my father had had a massive stroke, was in a coma, and was not expected to last very long. However, just before Hodmandod Senior and I got there the next morning, my brother rang again to tell me my father was showing signs of improvement, and when I got there the obstinate man was sitting up in bed and fairly lucid, at least some of the time. No one knows what was or is wrong with him, and my brother says we should all take just one day at a time, so I am just relishing now. My mother is bearing up quite well, given the circumstances.
So now I am back at my desk trying to put my brain in order; a rather difficult task since I seem to have misplaced just about everything. I have, in the meantime, read rather a lot of Chekhov, and the resumés will follow shortly.