My mother has improved considerably. This morning she went upstairs (on the stair lift) and had a wash (leaning on a zimmer frame and sitting on a perching stool) without either of us having to hover protectively. She gets bored. She can't potter like she used to and the steeplechasing season is over, so there's less for her to watch on TV in the afternoons. She gets uncomfortable sitting (so do we; there's not a comfortable chair in the house) and goes to bed an hour earlier than she used to. Every night she thanks me profusely for looking after her.
Yesterday I read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time. YA novels are sparer- more essential- than adult ones. Their excellence or crapness is more immediately apparent. Is Christopher an accurate portrayal of a person with Aspergers or simply a convincing one? You swing between thinking how awful to be so oppressed and overloaded by the world and how wonderful to be free of all its emotional mess.
I feel tired all the time and correspondingly stupid. I hope it doesn't show in my posts but I'm afraid it does. I'm worrying what to cook for lunch. There's a small portion of cottage pie (I made it myself!) left over from yesterday, but what to put with it?