‘Isn’t it amazing, here we are, two women in one kitchen, well, I say women, really, one senior, one servant and everyone perfectly happy!’

Many people would constantly mention about you washing their underwear with your red trousers and making all their best knickers pink but I’m not going to mention it.  I’m just looking at them there on the line.  Pink.

You really shouldn’t put your arms up the sleeves of that jackety thing you’re wearing, they will stretch and never look the same.

Look at my pink knickers on the line.  There are four pairs.  One two three four five. There are five pairs of pink underwear.  Count them.  Five.

Yoohoo.  Is there anyone in the house?  Oh, it’s you.  I thought there was someone here.

I wish you wouldn’t pluck your eyebrows.

You cannot throw that piece of cheese out!  I do not care if it is a month out of date, I was brought up in the war not to waste things, it must be eaten.  What is the date on that box of cereal?  No one eats cereal here, throw it out.  I cannot believe you threw that cheese out. 

When you go shopping for me bring quality things, I only eat quality.

I cannot believe you wasted that cheese.  I waste nothing, not even pink knickers.

Why are you wearing that patient face?

Keep this door closed, you must keep this landing door closed.

 I am not mentioning my knickers.

Is there anything for my tea that I will like?

Five pairs, all pink.  My memory is not what it was but I remember that.  Many people would complain but not me.

I can’t remember, what was it you destroyed?  I’m not talking about your sleeves, though they grieve me sorely.  Can you wash that garment with all the gaudy sequins?

It is very dark here on the landing, some foolish person must have closed the door.

We must do something about all the waste, I was brought up in the war.  I am throwing these bed socks out, I wish you would get me some new ones.

Do not wear that patient face, it is a waste.


We are still in communication via a dongle; here I have no email, so if you’ve been writing to say I am the most evil carer the devil invented, I do not know.  Also if you are writing to show me your tee-shirt collection, I can’t see it yet.

For anyone who has been here, done this, solidarity and high fives, it seems to have become harder since I last did it for my mother-in-law thirty years ago.

No doubt there are more sayings to come from the pointy bits of the landscape of dwindling logic.


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