Roasted veg, parmesan and pesto slaw, salad, garlic ciabatta

Before I even opened my eyes this morning mum was talking at me and Suki was squeaking for breakfast. In the time it took me to feed Suki and visit the bathroom, I had a missed call from the community bus service about transport to mum’s hospital appointment on Friday.

I was left with a choice between using the community bus and getting us to the hospital an hour early, or paying the entirety of my week’s PIP allowance to get a taxi that will get us there closer to the actual appointment time. I agreed to the first but, on reflection, that way lies only anxiety for mum and misery for me, so I’ll be changing to the second.

By mid-morning, mum was starting to panic about Lady Friday’s forthcoming visit. I spent most of the rest of the day doing a count-down in decreasing increments of how soon she would be arriving.

Mum decided that she doesn’t want to see Lady Friday again after the next few weeks. I’m hoping she’ll forget that idea before those few weeks are up.

Just before Lady Friday arrived, mum told me she wanted to go somewhere that, after a bit of investigation, I identified as Freshwater Bay. When Lady Friday arrived, she asked mum what she wanted to do. “Cat wanted to tell you, I think,” said mum, as if I was making the decisions and not just relaying mum’s wishes.

With them gone off to the seaside, I had an empty house to plough through various items on my list. First I called the dentist to arrange an appointment for mum to get a filling replaced. They offered one tomorrow afternoon, which I said I would discuss with mum.

Then I called Lady Friday’s employer to cancel Friday’s appointment, as mum’s hospital appointment means we may not be back in time for it.

Then I called the GP surgery to ask about a form to apply for a prescription payment exemption certificate, which I am apparently entitled to as a physically disabled person who can’t leave the house without assistance. Said form is available only in paper format, collectable from the GP surgery: i.e. if I do the exact thing that the form is to declare I can’t do.

Then I set up my new mobile phone, which arrived today, not so much delivered as slung into the porch as the delivery driver walked past. It’s a good thing that this is the sort of area where crime is practically unheard of.

My broken phone has to be posted back to the insurance company: they don’t do a collection as I live in “a remote area”. Unless the Isle of Wight has upped anchor since I last looked, 2 miles from the mainland across one of the UK’s busiest stretches of water isn’t exactly ‘remote’.

Once Lady Friday had gone, I talked to mum about the dentist appointment. This was an unqualified mistake: three hours later, mum is still repeatedly asking if ‘they’ will be nice and if they will stop her going to church. The workings of my mother’s mind utterly bewilder me sometimes.

Dinner was mum’s favourite Mediterranean roasting veg, with garlic ciabatta, salad, and a parmesan and pesto slaw from Tesco. The slaw tastes mostly of coleslaw, with a hint of basil and the occasional shocking hint of a cracked black peppercorn.

I will finish the slaw (if it doesn’t throw itself out of what I am increasingly referring to as “that damn fridge” first, as too many things have done recently), but I’m not sure I like it enough to buy it again.

Now it’s the usual tv (which reminds me: I watched Only Connect last night, and mum was Not Happy that I was muttering about acronyms¹ instead of listening to her litany of complaints), hopefully Suki snuggles, and reassuring mum that I will reschedule the dentist appointment to another time.

Goodnight, all.

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1. And the connection was indeed “they’re all acronyms of each other”. I was quietly pleased with myself, even if neither mum nor Suki understood why. ↩︎