December 12th, 2014

And Now, God Knows, Anything Goes

Kirstie and my mother watch Waterloo Rd together. I was taken aback when I first caught them at it. There was a time- not very long ago- when any drama that wasn't Call the Midwife, any comedy that wasn't Dad's Army, any movie, any variety show would have been met with an imperious, "I don't know what this is!" And the channel would have had to have been changed toute suite.  When she stopped understanding the technology I took over the remote and kept her on a diet of news, wildlife documentaries and the Antiques Roadshow- jumping up to switch channels before the snorting started. I micromanaged so efficiently that I missed the moment when she ceased to care. Now she'll watch anything.  Last night, for instance, I left the remote with her and she sat and dozed uncomplainingly through Eastenders followed by The BBC Music Awards- One Direction, Ed Sheeran, Pharrell Williams.  At one point Harry and the boys woke her up with their soaring and all she did was turn the volume down a notch and shut her eyes again.

A Place For Everything

I'm bringing things in from the garage. Wherever there was empty wall there's now one of our pictures hanging. The living room has acquired a new settee. Our plate rack has replaced my mother's because it's superior. I've brought in all the dvds- at least I think I have; I counted the Poirot Collection- conveniently numbered 1- 65- and they're all present and correct.

Ailz has put our bed on freecycle. It was that or swap it for the one we use here (which she prefers) or leave it to acquire mildew; the garage doesn't leak but it's very damp at this time of year.