You Know It Makes Census

As decreed by god and the Wakefield Curtain Twitchers Society, I’ve just completed the UK census, relaying my mum’s property occupancy details.

Among the queries answered were residents academic qualifications, their employment history and whether we think TV’s Simon Cowell is a t**t….. For confidentiality reasons, I’m unable to disclose my answers to these inquiries; although you can probably guess the latter.

As an advocate of ancestral research, I’ve no issue with spending ten minutes of my time supplying information affording future generations opportunity to formulate a picture of their forebears employment, domain and academic wherewithal….. Although, they’ll possibly wonder who the hell Simon Cowell was.

As I type, yours truly’s distant background resonance is one of an old ‘Jeeves and Wooster’ radio broadcast, via Alexa. The received punctuation of late actors Michael Hordern and Richard Briers currently guiding my mother through one of PG Wodehouse’s whimsical yarns.

That being said, as she just begun snoring, I suspect the old lady isn’t as enamoured with the prose as I am. However, as her cacophonous snorting currently drowns out the radio play’s plot line, the verve of the listen has also taken a back seat for yours truly ….. As Bertie Wooster may ruefully lament “I say, mater.”

I’m into day four, or five, of my carer role following Mrs S seniors departure from hospital. With the old lady’s mobility issues, it’s not an easy role.

This shock to the system evidenced above when I was unable to even recall how many days since her return….. I suppose the most accurate way to work out her liberty is dividing the forty tea bags I’ve used by the eight cups she drinks a day…… Yeah, I can confirm it’s 5 days.

Maggie’s made good strides since her release from a hospital. Leaving a place where, regardless of receiving excellent treatment and support from medical staff, after six weeks in situ, she was starting to become somewhat institutionalised.

It’s amazing how much stronger the leg severely impacted by her stroke has strengthened. For instance, her standing and walking have improved to such an extent, she’s now capable of meandering the length of the living room to eavesdrop on my phone calls in the kitchen.

To be honest, as caring staff are attending to facilitate Maggie’s personal care, my employ as her carer doesn’t involve a great deal more than tasks I was undertaking anyhow. Apart from laundry and house cleaning chores augmenting my workload, little has changed. For a variety of reasons, my life was on hold anyway even prior to her stroke.

Mrs S has now woken and is watching the musical ‘Kiss Me Kate’ on TV. I just hope she doesn’t attempt to mimic the fast paced tap dancing routine that’s just been brilliantly performed by Ann Miller. Your legs are getting stronger, Mags, but they’re not in a place to undertake any of that fast footwork malarky.

Right, as I’ve another load of laundry for the dryer and mum must be due another brew by now, I need to bring this journal to a conclusion.

Leave a Reply