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Even so, we thought that, all things taken into consideration, being close to her only family would outweigh the pull of her only home. We were wrong.
Well, we tried, and we are still trying.
So, in order to avoid her just calling a taxi and arriving back at her old house with whatever she has managed to cram into a bag, we have agreed to take her, and her clothes, and her pictures, and everything else, back to her own home later in the week. The staff have been, and are, amazing, so kind, so attentive, so patient, but they, with all their experience, can recognise an implacable will when they see one.
She is only barely reconciled to staying there a couple more days, but at least she is now prepared to relax a little - today I tracked her down in the lounge singing her heart out to 'You are my sunshine', 'Top of the World', 'Those were the days' and apparently enjoying herself.
We'll set her GP and the local social services onto the task of providing some kind of care in her home once she's back.
She's got a couple of days to change her mind... anyone who describes her as having a will of iron has completely underestimated her. That's all I can say.
It's going to be another mp3 player night, being soothed to sleep by the shipping forecast, and then later, if I wake up, being bored to sleep by some droning thing on the radio.