Tag Archives: Third Age

Can’t Hear, Won’t Hear

I’m waiting, shamefacedly, for my appointment with the audiologist at a leading high street retailer where Mother bought her hearing aid. The staff eye me furtively because this is my sixth appointment in a fortnight which they know can only mean one thing: Mother still refuses to believe her hearing aid works. They’re right. IContinue reading “Can’t Hear, Won’t Hear”

Rice pudding killed my Father

I am making chocolate rice pudding when my Mother asks me if I plan to poison her. She’s crept up next to me at the stove and is pointing at the pudding with a wooden spoon.   ‘Not yet. Though if you stir the pudding while I am trying to mix the rice with the meltedContinue reading “Rice pudding killed my Father”

International Women’s Day

We’re celebrating International Women’s Day by searching for the Lost Batteries of Mother’s Hearing Aid, which sounds like a rare Indiana Jones DVD, but actually is a regular and tedious domestic ritual in which we hunt for the missing bronze batteries which power Mother’s hearing aid.   ‘They’re mischievous little buggers,’ says my Mother, wheneverContinue reading “International Women’s Day”