The diary of a bemused Boomer
Mother and I are answering a questionnaire called ‘Getting to Know Me’. It’s designed to give the staff at her new nursing home an insight into her history and her likes and dislikes. She moves shortly. The questionnaire is a multiple-choice version of the BBC TV series ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’. Most ofContinue reading “Mother the matricide”
Our car is as ancient as a Viking long ship and as glamourous as a discount warehouse baked bean can. Something inside the old jalopy smells bad, like pickled face flannel, but it’s not so bad that you want to puke and with the windows open it’s bearable over short distances. However, today, I’m drivingContinue reading “The car smells of Boomer despair”
Mother is slowly sipping roast parsnip soup under the watchful eye of her carer. She eats her lunch purposefully, bowing her head down as she brings the spoon up to her lips. Her right-hand trembles but this time the soup doesn’t slop over the side of the spoon. ‘We’re going make you big and strongContinue reading “Does Mother really like roast parsnip soup?”