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A day in my life
A day or two in my life
A day or two in my life
There are times in life when your circumstances suddenly change. Sometimes for the better and sometimes not, and other times when you know it has to change but don’t know until after it has changed whether it was for the better - or not. It is always such a relief when what you nervously dreaded turns out to be actually rather nice - though decidedly different.
My lovely flat in Bath is now a thing of the past and I am in - what so many people dread with a vengeance - a Care Home. Of-course a lot depends on the Care Home, and the one I am in - although not one of the ‘top end of the market’ Homes has proved to be full of kindness, laughter, and so much to do the days are not long enough. My sunny room houses me and my lap-top and all my own bits and pieces. I am free to come and go as I please. I am near the sea, my daughter, friends and a pretty little town. The food is what I’d call ‘sustaining and substantial’ - good but not quite my style. However a little trip into town and I can relish a lunch that is decadent and delicious whenever I want - so all is well.
We are about thirty ancient creatures, and are looked after by about thirty chirpy young
Things. A good combination. I get breakfast in bed and enough cups of tea to sink a
ship. I also have gradually got to know the inhabitants. In all sorts of shapes and sizes and in all sorts of aging degrees. Some sad and quiet, others anything but. I am a chatter-box, and that does seem to encourage some of the shyer inmates to talk. Not that they all need much encouragement.
Some - who look so fragile, have led amazing lives. Full of courage, bravery and extra-ordinary experiences. There are sad tales too. I am going to start off with a few humorous bits and pieces. Funny little bits of conversation that I hear throughout the day. I have already told one about the Write-buzz mouse-mat. Here are one or two more to make you smile. You must take into account the fact that most of us do not hear quite
a well as we once did!
The Noisy Nose
The Cast:- Phyllis - age 89
Enid - age 91
Jenny - age 23
Dinner is being served and the kitchen staff can be heard laughing loudly.
Phyllis: That’s a lot of noise. They are making a lot of noise.
Jenny: Sorry - I’ll tell them to keep the noise down.
Enid: Who has hurt her nose?
Phyllis: Nobody has. Jenny said ‘noise’.
Enid: It bled? Mine did that last week.
Phyllis: Not ’bled’ - I said ’said’
Enid: (Crossly) I know what you said - Your nose bled.
Phyllis (also crossly) No I didn’t. There was a noise. A NOISE - not a nose.
Enid: Well perhaps you blew it too hard - that can make a noise. (To Jenny…
May I have another cup of tea dear.)
The soup has been sipped, slurped and the last drops finally scooped.
There was a social pause before the stuffed mushrooms arrived.
Talk at the next table was concentrated on daughters.
One said: “She’s a long way away - up North.”
“Where would that be - Liverpool?”
“No - way up in Scotland - somewhere near Glasgow - or is it Edinburgh?”
“Um - my daughter is on a farm in Dorset. They breed ferrets.”
“Um - do they have ferrets in Scotland?”
“I know they have cows, there is all that Aberdeen Angus beef. I know that.”
They all nod sagely and tackle their stuffed mushrooms.
Would you like some fruit-cake?
Christmas cake - fruit-cake.
What sort of fruit?
Dried fruit - like they put in fruit-cake.
Which fruit have you dried?
Would you like to see it - and try a bit?
When it arrived it was investigated.
Hmm - it doesn’t look like fruit to me.
Have you never had Christmas cake?
“Yes you have Maggie. You had it yesterday.-” said her friend
Oh! Well its changed. You’ve cooked it too much. Its gone mushy.
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