Cheese and onion crispbakes, potato pops, salad; Oreo brownie and Oreo ice cream

For the third time in five days, I headed out today. Mum didn’t want to come with me, then she did, then she didn’t, then she did, didn’t, did, didn’t… She eventually settled on ‘did’ so we climbed aboard the little community bus and headed village-wards.

We first went to the pharmacy, to collect a prescription and drop off another, and to ask for professional advice regarding a couple of insect bites on my arm, which the pharmacist confirmed were probably infected. While I waited for the prescribed antibiotics to be dispensed (yay, yet more tablets!), one of mum’s church friends walked in. She and mum hugged and chatted, then we wandered up to our current favourite café (The Freshwater Coffee House) for lunch and, in my case, a refreshing iced coffee.

Mum was on top form, as we discussed her return to church on Sunday and to choir practice on Friday, although she seemed confused about why she hadn’t been recently: when I mentioned her recent health problems, she looked blank and said “who, me?”

Then we got the big green bus home, which mum didn’t enjoy much: on arrival home I said something about meeting her friend earlier, and she had no idea what I was talking about. It’s just so easy for me to forget that, no matter how well she seems, mum’s just not her old self and probably never will be, any more than I’m likely to be pain-free and in complete control of my legs ever again. Both things make me want to curl up and sob.

Three outings in five days have been far too much for me, so dinner was a freezer to oven to plate job. The potato pops (I think that’s what they’re called, anyway) are something I vaguely remember having as a kid: small balls of mashed potato with a crunchy exterior which I find strangely moreish (mum, for the record, finds them boring).

Dessert was cake we had brought home from lunch: Oreo brownie for me, and rhubarb and ginger crumble cake for mum. Both were very good, and very sweet, although not sweet enough to stop mum from diving straight back into the coffee ice cream!

I will spend the rest of the evening reassuring mum that she will be able to go to church on Sunday: yes, it’s all arranged; no, no-one hates you for not being there recently; yes, I’ll be here while you’re out (where else can I go?); no, it’s not a problem, you don’t need to apologise, just please stop asking (that last went unvocalised, but may have been apparent in my voice by the sixth or seventh time).

Have a good evening, everyone, and don’t let the bedbugs mosquitos bite.