What is this?

Another day passed.

Tripled morphine in pump, to help with overall comfort and ease agitation.

Bright-eyed this afternoon, reading a magazine (stunning) - is this the fabled last burst of energy?
I think maybe the second to last.

He asked me to stay with him when I settled him for the night last night (it's 1:30 am or so now). So I have.
In Annelies' old chair, done proud, fairly dead but having a great and worthy last innings.

Randomnesses started in earnest this morning (we've had them before, but less consistently).

"It was Right Said Fred."
"I think I got confused."
"Black Box, Mike and Jenny" (this one turned out sensible - Mike and Jenny have our set of Black Books. Do you? It's a worry :-)).
"Do I need help to get up?"
"Barry's just leaving."
"Are they?"
"You said, the bad ones have come out bad?"
"Pointing (at nothing): "Arrows".
"Welcome. You are welcome."
"I left my book somewhere. The extra book."

and, best of all -
"Why did I have to put on a skirt?"

As I said to Richard by email (from memory), it's all so like the kind of wordplay we indulge in anyway - left fielders with hidden connections - that there is nothing frightening or even unfamiliar about it.

Along the same lines as Alex's comment this evening to my musing on how much Sophie did or didn't want me to go shopping with her for Sarah's present (would require a Gerald-sitter for an hour or so): whether she minded one way or the other.
Alex said, "Cloudy".

Get it, then (neither did I, at first)?
With a chance of a martini. Meatballs over-rated.

And another Read-ism (only he can attest that this is not a non-sequitur): Gerald is From a Planet.
At 24 we understood that pseudo-normals such as ourselves were from earth; but Gerald was different - he was From a Planet. Untethered.
Now at 48 this seems a little too prescient.

But that, of course, is the 20-20 of hindsight, always able to see hidden not-really meanings.

One of the middle of (this) night's murmurings to finish us for now:

"7 + 7 + 8 8."
I thought this was a randomness, too - till 20 minutes later it was followed by
"Short rhythm pattern."

It takes putting the two together, and once I had, I checked it out with Gerald -
"Did you mean 7+7+8/8 was the short rhythm pattiern?"
"Yes".

So, in Rob-Boasman-speak (as endorsed by Wikipedia, look it up), this would be
Gi-na-Lo-lo-brig-i-da
Gi-na-Lo-lo-brig-i-da
Gi-na-Lo-lo-brig-i-da's-cool

No real sleep for either of us yet.
What is this?

L