Lovely afternoon sweeping leaves together. Companionable meal. Dvd chosen for his enjoyment then wham! Expectation of sex deflected. OH throws glass of wine at me. Sweeps everything off his side table . Slams glass door in tirade of abuse. I hasten to switch off tv, fire, lights and hurry to bed behind locked door. So here I am, unable to sleep, gasping for a cup of tea, and wishing I’d collected my book when I retreated. Tomorrow I shall taxi out. I’ll leave his pills ready but he’s on his own for food and drinks. This isn’t New. Alzheimer’s just exaggerates it. He’ll have no memory or interest in my upset. I expect I’ll calm down and carry on for another day.