Hunter’s gammon, crispy potato slices, green veg

Today I finally lost my temper. 😬

I went to make lunch and found that the unopened bread was mouldy and had to go straight in the food waste bin. Then I had to empty the bin, which meant getting my shoes and crutches, with a toe that feels like someone was stabbing a shard of glass into the side of it.

Mum realised she didn’t have my full attention so started with “I don’t feel well, I’m going back to bed… are you listening? Do you think I’m doing the wrong thing?”I said “I don’t know, mum, it’s up to you” and went outside with my bag of furry bread. Mum huffed and went into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. (Teenage sulk, much?)

I stood outside, just breathing the country air. After a too brief moment, mum appeared with a muttered apology, and tried to take an interest in the garden with me. (Which, btw, is showing evidence of the love-in-a-mist seeds I lost earlier in the year – all over the driveway. Oh well, it looks pretty anyway!)

It didn’t take long for the anxiety loop to start up again, but by that stage I had cheese, crackers, and an apple, and felt rather less irritable.

Today also saw a far happier development: the first time Suki has fallen asleep in my presence, not under or behind something but out in the open, on her back with her little pawsies in the air. It was, as you can see, utterly adorable.

As for dinner: it was a little late¹ as it was in a Tesco van somewhere in West Wight. Served up, it was greeted by some of the most dispiriting words I know: “I don’t think I’m going to like this”. ‘Encouraged’ by my audible frustration, mum served herself a slice of gammon bacon², potato slices, and broccoli, because “I like these”.

Mum doesn’t like broccoli. She has never liked broccoli, and has previously been very vocal about this fact. Until today. I am some distance beyond confused..

She also enjoyed the bacon, as I knew she would: halfway through she said “this stuff is nice”. I wasn’t entirely successful in not saying “I told you so”, although I managed to twist it into “thank goodness I remembered correctly”. 🙄

Tomorrow mum has an appointment at the Eye Clinic, which she has been worrying about all day. I haven’t yet told her that it will take about 3 hours, only that of course they won’t hurt her – a perennial concern – and I will make jacket potatoes for dinner. I believe that is what is called, in animal training circles, ‘positive reinforcement’.

Not that I’m training mum, but if it works…

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1. By mum’s standards, that is. By anyone else’s standards it was, as always, very early. If dinner isn’t on the plate by 5.45pm, Words are said. ↩︎
2. It’s not gammon, because mum doesn’t like gammon. Rebranded ‘bacon’, though, it’s all good. 🤷‍♂️ ↩︎