Cheesy potato bake with salad

More heat today: even with the fan going, it’s nearly 30º C in the living room.

Mum complained about the heat a lot, in the way of thermophile¹ like me struggles to understand, but was otherwise much better today than yesterday. She ate breakfast (after the standard complaint that “there’s nothing here I like”, which always gets me right in the gut because I so rarely buy anything purely for my taste), did a bit of gardening, then sat in the living room and watched television.

I sat in my room and did some emails, started a new book, and tried to phone the pharmacy that does mum’s meds, over and over and over again. I never did get an answer. 😠

That aside, the day was going relatively well, but then the post arrived and everything went to pieces. Amongst the letters was one from the rheumatology consultant, summarising the content of our conversation and adding notes on the outcome of the tests he had requested.

[What it didn’t contain was a single comma. I know doctors these days mostly use straight-to-page dictation, but a quick re-read would have shown that it was pretty much unreadable and desperately in need of some punctuation. That is, of course, largely beside the point, but my inner proofreader recoiled in horror at the punctuation-less mess of text.]

One of the tests showed that mum has an infection in her gums, and the consultant recommends that mum sees a dentist as soon as possible. This news was not greeted with overwhelming joy by mum.

She became very fretful, speaking in the ‘little old lady’ voice I hate and constantly apologising (for what, I really don’t know) and wanting reassurance that she wasn’t “messing everything up” and that I’m not “going to throw her away”. It was both heartbreaking and, after the first few minutes, increasingly irritating.

She went to lie down in her bedroom, but the reassurance-seeking continued, along with refusal to go to the dentist because she “couldn’t understand him” last time she went. Promising that one of her friends would go with her, and that it wouldn’t be happening in the next few days anyway, helped not at all.

After about an hour, the panic started to ebb, and mum apologised for her behaviour. That was my cue to make dinner, which was simply pre-made mash mixed with garlic and onion seasoning and grated cheese before baking until golden and bubbling.

Mum said she didn’t want much but, faced with the golden, bubbling deliciousness she couldn’t resist and served herself a decent portion which she seemed to enjoy. I also thought it was good, but you can’t really go wrong with cheese and potatoes.

The weather forecast promises storms over night. If so, you’ll find mum and me at the window, oohing and aahing like a crowd at a fireworks display.

🤞 for 🌩!

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1. A heat-lover. Usually used to describe bacteria that live around volcanic vents and the like, but I’m adopting it. ↩︎