Beans.

Today we have a guest blogger, my sister Fabia

Fabia whisked mum and the dog away for the weekend so Sarah and I could enjoy a birthday surprise from her Mum; a weekend at the spectacular Thoresby Hall. 

I've just had a good weekend with mum, and managed to do most things about right so I've been inspired to make an appearance on Jon's blog.

Its always a worry when to let mum know what the plans are. Not too early so she worries about where she's going to sleep and so can't sleep, but not too late so that she feels she's never told what's going on. Some time in the middle seems to work so that even if she forgets where she's going, mum still has 23 pairs of socks and a sun hat packed and ready to go.

We'd had a chat about mum coming over to help in the garden and she was looking forward to it. I arrived on Friday and we did our usual weekday things: swimming; gardening; watching a film. Then I stayed the night as usual and in the morning suggested we go over to my house. The swimming the day before worked its magic and mum slept most of the car journey so we didn’t have the customary discussion around 'where are we going?' and 'I don’t know this place'.

Its was lovely for mum to wake up as we arrived and say 'Here we are' 'I know where I am'. She was straight into the garden and as there was lots of weeding my fruit trees and bushes escaped mum's extreme pruning skills. Although my unruly raspberry canes were inspected many times. Mum likes things to be in order so we worked solidly, weeding, cutting the grass, raking and tidying. I must say, after a nice Sunday dinner at the pub on the second day we could relax in garden chairs and really enjoy the fruits of our labours in a spot of unexpected summer sunshine.

As we relaxed and chatted in our normal wandery way,  I explained that Jon and Sarah would pop over to bring mum back a bit later, and then we chatted about what we might do on my next weekly visit. Mum said we needed to do the round things that we did last time.  I wondered if mum meant she needed to take her tablets but no that wasn’t it. She made the shape of little round things with her fingers. 'The round things, we did lots of them' She mimed walking and moving her hands in small shapes. I wondered if it was the broad beans which we had sat and shelled on Friday but no 'Not broad beans, they are green, yes beans'.

I guessed at the green beans she had enjoyed with her Sunday lunch 'Oh they were lovely, but not those beans'
We continued like this for some time with me guessing at every round green bean thing that I could and trying to imagine what we might have to do with them. I offered to plant some beans in the vegetable patch in her garden and then as I thought of jobs which needed doing it struck me……. Gooseberries!

'Yes Gooseberries! We have to pick the gooseberries' We were both so pleased that we'd got to the bottom of those bean things. Last year we had sat for hours topping and tailing the pounds of gooseberries from the two bushes in mums garden. We'd both enjoyed the simple task that we could happily do together. The mime was mum walking to the bushes and picking the fruit. I suppose with dementia the trick is not to assume that beans will be beans.

Mum and Snapper after a hard day gardening.

Pointing,beer and socks

Pointing

Had a bad week with mum last week. Took a long time for her to readjust after our weekend at santapod. She is finding it harder and harder to cope with any change from a weekly routine. Every morning I would be summoned to her room for her to try to explain a problem. Every day the same pointing and broken sentences. Pointing at the bed and the corner of the room. Tried everything I could think to no avail. Midweek Mum walked into the kitchen carrying her quilt and pillow covers. "I hate these" Hoping that could be the root of the problem I changed the bed to covers she chose and everything seemed ok...for an hour or two.


Back to the drawing board. Same summoning into the room for pointing and words. Sometimes she would get quite angry, the frustration of not having the words to explain the problem, if indeed she really knows what the problem is. One day Sarah was summoned and managed to quieten things down by removing one pillow and straightening the quilt. 


Anyway, "normal" service was resumed towards the end of the week, helped by a few visits from the lovely gentleman and a trip to Leicester to do some shopping accompanied by a nice dinner somewhere.




Saturday, thanks to Sarah insisting I go out for the day,saw my first visit to The Welland Valley Beer Festival. This must be one of the best ideas for a beer festival in the country. A load of local pubs take part, with a huge selections of real ales and ciders, food and entertainment. To make it unique the pubs are served by a selection of vintage buses operating a free timetabled service round the pubs. Great to hear the sound of 50 grown men going woooooooooooooaaaaahhhhh as the buses approach the tops of the steepest hills. One of the buses had to stop on a hill on the way to Uppingham and all the passengers had to walk to the top. A great day for all. In one pub we were greeted by "Prost8" quite possibly the oldest (just)living jazz band in the world. Highly recommended.


This week in general has been much much better. The lovely gentleman called round several times to show off his new car and took Mum out for a spin or two, which always helps. We seem to be losing cutlery at an alarming rate, I think it may be going into mums Apocalypse stockpile. Once we run too low will have to investigate.




This weekend Sarah and I have been treated to a weekend At Thoresby Hall hotel and spa by her Mum and Partner. It was a birthday present for Sarah so I get to go along too. Cool. This seems to have kicked off a little confusion again. We will just have to see if this restarts the bedroom problems. Maybe a break in the routine takes a lot of adjustment and its proving too much? Could it really be that simple?

In other news...

I went to buy some socks on Tuesday. Turned into a bit of an expensive trip. As I was in Corby and the fuel is cheaper there I decided to top the car up, you know, save a couple of bob. On the way home the car seemed to be running a little hot and also seemed to be a little "knocky" under load. As I pulled in the drive it cut out...that was when I realised I had put petrol in my diesel car. Call out. Drain the tank, flush the fuel lines and a new fuel filter. 10 gallons and the call out fee down the drain. Luckily, as it wasn't too much petrol I have escaped any damage to the car. Then to cap it all I had picked up the wrong size socks. Bad day.

Sport.....Yes Sport.

Sport.

Anyone who knows me will probably be recoiling in shock at my use of the S word for a title. I have never been able to understand the mania that surrounds sport. Living on the Wirral as I did for many years I was constantly faced with the question Red or Blue? On giving the answer "I dont like football" One of three things would happen.

1. A complete look of disbelief followed by a hasty retreat
2. The answer would be ignored and the football discussion would carry on unabated, if one sided.
3. A cry of "are you gay or something" followed by a hasty retreat  just in case.

In every pub every night the conversation would revolve around how these fat beer swilling middle aged men could do so much of a better job than the young men they paid so much to watch, whilst wearing yet another hugely overpriced replica shirt, and £200 trainers.

I understand that competition between two opposing teams/individuals can be quite exciting but also that once that match/game/race is over shut up about it.

For my birthday, as usual, I had a long weekend watching drag racing at Santa pod. I enjoy this. Two cars or motorbikes head to head over a quarter mile. Apparently there are different classes and groups and even a championship league of some sort but I dont really care and it doesn't really matter. I like the loud and fast ones. And especially the ones that blow up or catch fire.

I don't then spend hours discussing how I could do so much better because I know I couldn't. I'm just happy to talk about the great day I have had watching it.

To the best of my knowledge there has never been a fight between opposing fans as everyone is there for a love of the event itself. Sitting on the grass cheering a fast time no matter who makes it. In the evening families wander round the pits to chat with the drivers and mechanics, no snobbery or elitism here. Try wandering into the dressing room at a football match and see what happens.

Combine all this fun with free camping,  kids under 16 free, live music, cheap beer and food, stunt shows and a fly past from a spitfire and you have a great weekend.

Roll on next year, my 50th birthday bash at Santa pod. All welcome.

A fast loud one nearly catching fire.

 A little confusion.

While we were at Santa pod Fabia had the task of mummy and doggy sitting. Friday her and Mum went to the Royal Academy where mum has been a member for many years. Fabia decided to spring the day out on mum rather than the gradual build up, a tactic that seemed to work very well. Mum was asleep on the train before she new what had hit her. Both had a lovely day.

As Mum would normally go to Fabias for mummysitting there was a little confusion. Mum couldnt work out where I was or why Fabia was there. As usual the diversionary tactics of gardening and food worked a treat. 

Now the Birthday season is over the planning starts for our summer holiday. Me, three slightly eccentric Ladies (one canine) set off for the south of France in the caravan. God help us all.