I went to see mother today, following the sad news of Friday. As I said before I really should see more of her than I have done since moving away last summer. I took with me a card from myself, Owl and Skater, a bunch of pink tulips and a box of pecan and maple pastries (box = 2). Owl came with me for the drive but didn’t come to mother’s he went into town to watch the rugby 6 nations match so that mother and I could reminisce without worrying that Owl would not know who or what we were talking about.
When we reached town I parked up at the Tesco car park (I hadn’t yet bought the flowers or cakes). At the store entrance Owl and I went in our separate directions, he in search of beer and rugby, me in search of cake…….it seems ages since I bought cake, they don’t feature in my diet these days.
It didn’t take me long to collect my basket of goodies. When I paid for these the young lad at the check out asked me if I had a car in the car park downstairs. (This is one of the new modern versions of Tesco where the shop is built above the car park). Admittedly I have not used this store many times but I have never been asked this before. He handed me a voucher with a code number on it to punch into a machine at the car park entrance. They are trying to encourage non Tesco shoppers not to park in their car park. (It is close to the town and free).
I joined the short queue, but when it was my turn that’s when the trouble began. First I had to key in the last three letters of the car registration. I do know the registration number honest I do but could I remember which way round it was? Damn stupid thing I tried putting in the 3 digits but it didn’t like that so it asked me to put in the whole number. So I put in three letters followed by three numbers but it just didn’t look right. Then it occurred to me that I was using the letters from my poor departed Toyota that gave up the ghost in a cloud of smoke somewhere near Guildford whilst being driven by Prodigal last autumn(fall to you lot on the other side of the pond). I cancelled all together and took my purchases back to the car, checked the number plate realised where I had gone wrong and returned to the machine to try again. This Time I put in the T for the year followed by three numbers (I had got one of the three wrong first time around) followed by three letters …..almost the same as my original attempt but not quite, this time the machine showed me a photo of our chevrolet. Now I could enter the code on the ticket which now told me the time I arrived and the current time. I was now free to drive away. But where was the barrier that would have prevented me leaving?
Minutes later I arrived at mother’s with my gifts. Cakes and white tea consumed we chatted and chatted as we have a habit of doing when we are together. Obviously we chatted about James, but we also chatted about other family topics. Interspersed by various telephone calls. The last of which was from this lady, a relative of my late father. Having told Jill about my impending marriage, mother passed the phone to me. After discussing my good news we then moved on to the topic of Jill’s blog. As you will discover if you read her blog, her father has dementia. Jill is currently living with and caring for her father, her blog tells tales of the problems she has encountered and how she has overcome these problems. Her aim is to pass on her new found knowledge regarding information that carers of dementia patients need to know. Please take the time to visit this very worthwhile blog. Jill needs to increase her reader numbers before the newspaper which is sponsoring her decides to close her column.
Whilst chatting to Jill I heard the quacking of my mobile (I like to have a ring tone that I will instantly know as mine) to alert me that Owl was ready to be picked up and taken home.