Author: samantha

This week I have been…

On By samanthaIn GOING OUTLeave a comment

Reading– Into The Uncanny by Danny Robins

Danny Robins presents a wonderfully spooky podcast called Uncanny. He is also the award winning journalist behind the podcast The Witch Farm and TV series and Podcast The Battersea Poltergeist. The paranormal isn’t really my usual genre but I must admit Robins’ boyishly sincere and enthusiastic presenting style makes for enjoyable listening. He is someone who desperately wants to believe in ghosts but has yet to be convinced.  As he would say, he is hovering between Team Believer and Team Sceptic. The people recounting their personal brushes with the inexplicable are often very credible; scientists, policemen, doctors and the like. Intelligent people who understand that what they have witnessed is impossible but, as the theme song to the podcast attests, they know what they saw.

Into The Uncanny is Robins’ new book which covers never heard before stories, all of them exceptionally chilling. Robins throws in a couple of personal anecdotes and, had I been the editor, I would have omitted the one about his garden shed, it’s just a bit over the top and daft. Other than that, he really is a first rate story teller. Research for this book takes him to Rome to investigate suspected poltergeist activity. Let me ask you a question, if you thought your rental property was haunted by a terrifying poltergeist would you ask a teenage boy to babysit? Then there is the perfectly normal family who had the misfortune to be left with both auditory and visual hauntings after an architectural dig disturbs something (or someone) on their land. The mother and daughter both struggled psychologically for years after these frightening events and Robins treats them very respectfully. I always wonder if the people who sell these supposedly haunted properties disclose the activity to any potential purchasers. 

Robins, possibly the Louis Theroux of the paranormal, can persuade just about anybody to let him look around their potentially haunted property and it is when he takes the original witnesses back to the scenes of the hauntings that things really start to become interesting. The book also covers some UFO activity, again with extremely credible witnesses but, for some reason, these stories don’t interest me so much. I do wonder if he wouldn’t be better to keep the green men separate from the ghosts. Overall a brilliant read and do check out Robins’ podcasts too. 

Watching – Leave The World Behind on Netflix

Julia Roberts and Ethan Hawke star in this apocalyptic thriller. They play Amanda and Clay Sandford, a couple who decide to take their two children on a vacation to a luxury rental home. While in bed one night they are woken by a knock on the door and find GH Scott, the owner of the property and his daughter, Ruth, standing there in evening clothes having supposedly come from the opera. GH explains that there has been some sort of blackout and asks if they can come in and spend the night rather than driving back to the city. Amanda is immediately suspicious and Ruth, played by Myha’la, bristles at what she perceives as Amanda’s thinly veiled racism.  Does Amanda not believe that a GH, a black man, played by Mahershala Ai, can possibly be the owner of such an impressive property? To be honest, if complete strangers turned up at my door in the middle of the night begging to be let in I would be suspicious as well. Ruth and GH end up sleeping in the basement, albeit it a very nice basement, of their own house.

The plot is fairly predictable, fear and uncertainty spreads as nobody knows what is happening or who is behind the events A prepper and neighbour, played by Kevin Bacon, is all stocked up with food and medicine but brings out his shotgun when asked for help. There are a couple of genuinely shocking moments, one involving out of control Teslas and the other a gory dental scene. Overall, Leave The World Behind doesn’t offer anything that I haven’t seen a dozen times before.  It is over two hours long and I really had lost interest by the unsatisfactory ending. 

Listening to – Stories from the Village of Nothing Much on ITunes

This gorgeously relaxing podcast is written and narrated by Kathryn Nicolai. Nicolai describes herself as “an architect of cozy”, she has another podcast designed to help listeners sleep, called Nothing Much Happens which has been downloaded over one hundred million times. Listening to Nicolai’s wonderfully soothing voice is almost a form of meditation. The stories themselves are simple yet well written. In them Nicolai potters around the pretty village where her fictional self lives finding cheering things to do to brighten up the winter. Pleasure is found in simple things, a delicious cup of coffee or a browse around a Christmas market. Everybody is friendly and time spent alone is something to be cherished. This village is somewhere that I would quite like to move to myself. If you are feeling frazzled at this busy time of the year then do listen in.

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Three

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIES3 Comments

My eighty-nine year old mother-in-law went into hospital for a day three weeks ago. Whilst there she caught a chest infection and has been bed bound on a geriatric ward ever since. My husband said that she is becoming weaker and weaker because she is just left, lying in bed all day. It is a London hospital and the nurses are no doubt busy but my mother-in-law has continually asked to get out of bed and have an assisted walk but it has only happened once in three weeks. There are posters up around the ward urging patients to get moving as, apparently, ten days in bed ages the muscles by ten years. My mother-in-law is far too frail to get out of bed without assistance.

My mother-in-law lives in a town house, only the kitchen is on the ground floor and a toilet. There are lots of steep stairs. My husband thinks that this vertical living has kept his mother fit until now. She does have Asthma and has recently been diagnosed with Dementia although this is not always apparent. We have been told that she still has “capacity” to make her own decisions. Over the past few years we have suggested that she move into sheltered housing, nearer us, but she refuses to leave London. To be honest, who can blame her? I would not like somebody telling me it is time to leave my home of many years. She has lived in the capital all her life, apart from when she was an evacuee in Oxford, the thought of moving to a little village in Kent seems dull to her. She describes where we live as “dead”. It really isn’t but it is a world away from the busy city. She has been having carers in twice a day to help her and it was once of these carers that insisted on taking her to the hospital and staying with her while she was admitted. This isn’t my own mum to write about but I think it is safe to say that she is a complex and sometimes difficult person and we are all wondering what is going to happen when she is discharged from hospital. It will be Christmas in a couple of days and it does not look like she will be going anywhere before then.

It would seem that a sensible solution would be for my mother-in-law would be to go into a care-home for a month or so while she regains her strength and then maybe she can return back to her own house. This would give my husband some time to organise some necessary alterations to the property. If she won’t leave her home then the ground floor will have to be turned into a sort of self contained apartment. Whether she would even be able to manage then is highly questionable. At the moment she is not strong enough to open the wrapper on a bar of chocolate. Perhaps a move to sheltered accommodation would have prevented the possible permanent move into care which is now on the cards.

My husband and I make an appointment to view the care home in our village. I am dreading it. I am looking more for my own mum than my mother-in-law and feel guilty . We meet with the manager who is very well versed on the financials and takes a long time patiently explaining everything to us. The cost per week is £1,850 for residents who have dementia. £1,750 for patients without a dementia diagnosis. So, for my mum and mother-in-law, the annual cost is an enormous £96,200 per year. Each resident must demonstrate that they can self fund for the first two years and then, if their savings run down sufficiently, the local council takes over the cost. The council do not pay anywhere as much as the privately funded residents – they pay £800 per week. So wealthy residents who pay fund their own care for more than two years are subsidising the council funded patients. The manager explains that, because my dad could live another ten years, my parents house will not be included in their assets. I know absolutely nothing about how much Mum and Dad have in savings but I would be very surprised if it is anywhere near the almost £200,000 needed to self-fund two years of care. My mother-in-law is in a more fortunate position as another family member has offered to pay for her care. Which care-homes do less wealthy elderly people go to? I visited my late godmother in a care home in Surrey which was nowhere as nice as this one. I remember walking in and being nauseated by the overwhelming smell of urine, there were sodden piles of underwear on the floor in the toilets, this home just smells clean and fresh. Perhaps they are like hotels and this one is the equivalent of five star.

The manager takes us for a look around. There is nothing not to like. The place is gleaming and tastefully decorated with generic but attractive artwork everywhere. Each of the residents doors has a decal of an old-fashioned front door stuck to it in different, bright colours. The manager explains that people with dementia can recognise colours until very late in their cognitive decline. There is a box-frame outside each room with some photos from the resident’s past and maybe a momento or two. There are sensor matts in case of falls. A TV lounge and dining room. 

The thought of ending up in a care home fills most people with dread. My elderly aunt has said she will not leave her own home under any circumstances. The care home we visited seems like a very pleasant place to live if you can afford it. I have now been told of another local care home specialising in respite care and we will have to go and look at this one as well. My husband is off to see his mum in hospital again this evening. It is upsetting for him to see his feisty mum in such a weakened state but we need to accept what is happening and make plans for a safe future for her.

Poster on the ward my mother-in-law is currently on encouraging patients to get moving.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

A Lifetime of Lipsticks

On By samanthaIn HEALTHLeave a comment

Woolworths, Romford 1984 and teenage me is purchasing the best lipstick I will over own. Woolies own Evette brand in the colour “Mulberry Wine”. The perfect pinky brown which stayed on all day. If only I had known that it would be discontinued I would have bought all their stock with my pocket money. In the forty years since then I have been on the hunt for another colour I have liked so much.

It’s odd that I can remember the name of just about every lipstick I have ever owned. The first was Boots No 17 “Twilight Teaser”, a bluesh, iridescent mauve. I’m sure it looked terrible but it was certainly eye-catching. I wore it to a non-uniform day at school and every girl asked me what colour it was, a new experience for me as I definitely wasn’t known for my style. Another Boots No 17 favourite was the safer and very pretty “Poncho Pink”. I also loved the Miss Selfridge “Kiss and Make Up” range and wonder if Charlotte Tilbury took some of her inspiration from their lip-print embossed branding. I wore their “Iron Maiden” and “Copper Knobs” shades” around 1987. 

When I began to have some disposable income I graduated onto the more expensive brands. Estee Lauder “Spiced Cider”, a rust colour, was one I wore for years along with Lancome’s “Brun Nu” and “Rose Nu”. I went to a wedding around 1991 and actually asked one guest which lipstick she was wearing as I liked it so much and thought it may be “The One”. Clinique “Super Nectar”, I bought it the next day and it looked absolutely hideous on me.

I actually still have the lipstick I wore too my 1994 wedding, a rather daring matt red with incredible staying power, Rochas shade 56, it’s pictured below . I experimented with dark, blackberry colours at this time as well although always had to blot them so there was just the feintest stain left. My favourite which I also still have, although it smells a bit dubious after all these years, was Chanel Shade 36. I now buy Clinique’s Almost lipstick in Black Honey which is a very wearable balm-like tint.

Post Pandemic I seem to wear less make up but I don’t generally leave the house without a quick dusting of face-powder, usually Clinique, and a slick of some lip product or other. Loreal’s “Organza” is usually my go-to everyday lipstick or a tinted lip balm from Dr Paw Paw. I also love Estee Lauder’s “Pinkberry” which is the closest I can come to wearing a nude without looking totally washed out.

I never have been able to find a shade as perfect as my Woolies lipstick but perhaps it was just the thrill of being grown up enough to wear make up for the first time. I also hold fond memories of the little tins of four blushers sold by M & S around the same time but I certainly wouldn’t wear them now. Having said that. my make up choices have barely changed in all these years and perhaps it is time to change things up a little bit.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Two, Heart Attack – Part I

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

It is ten o’clock one Sunday evening and I am just about to go to bed when my phone starts ringing. I see that it is my parents’ number and hurriedly pick up. My mum unfortunately can no longer manage to make a telephone call so I was expecting to hear Dad’s voice. I was certain it must be some sort of emergency to be calling this late. There didn’t appear to be anyone on the line but then I heard Dad say very quietly “I’m having chest pains”. He seemed to be on the other line to the emergency services. Now, Dad usually keeps his Nokia mobile phone in its box in the back bedroom, he occasionally charges it if he is going to out somewhere but I don’t think I have ever once been able to reach him on it. The fact that it was charged and within reach this particular day was very serendipitous.

My parents literally live a few minutes away from me so I pulled on some jeans over my pyjamas and my husband and I rushed round there. On the way out I grabbed the keys to their house. When I arrived Dad was sitting back on the sofa, ashen faced and mum just looked frightened and confused. Dad confirmed that an ambulance was on the way. He was clearly more worried about what was going to happen to Mum than he was about his own situation, it was really very touching. I assured him that I wouldn’t leave Mum on her own for a second and I could see him visibly relax. He asked me to put together a bag for him to take to the hospital. 

The ambulance still hadn’t arrived after forty-five long minutes so I had to ring again. Then they sent two, what a waste of resources.  The paramedic in charge wired Dad to a portable ECG machine and assured him he wasn’t having a heart attack – this was completely wrong as we would discover when Dad was examined by a doctor. We decided that it would be better if I stayed at my parents’ house with Mum and my husband went in the ambulance with Dad to the hospital. I was very conflicted about this because they have been married for sixty two years and it felt wrong to keep them separate at this time but I also knew that looking after Mum would be a job in itself once we reached the hospital and that she would become difficult because she would be away from her familiar, safe home environment.  It was a cold night, very late and Mum was already understandably becoming distressed. Before the paramedics had even left, she had completely forgotten what had happened and kept asking who the strangers were in their house. 

During the next hour Mum must have asked me where Dad was twenty times. It was incessant. I kept gently explaining and she would look frightened and then repeat the question. I was almost sick with worry myself. My husband was very good and kept me informed and within a couple of hours it became clear that Dad was going to be OK. I spoke to Dad before going to bed and he just wanted to know that Mum was alright.  He said that yes, he had a small heart attack but that the pain had subsided and he was OK. The doctors were going to speak to him the following day about treatment options. Mum and I went off to bed, I slept on my childhood bed under the red Habitat duvet cover I had chosen when I was twelve.  It is probably a collector’s item now!

It took Mum a long time to settle down for the night and I was beginning to lose hope of getting any sleep but she eventually nodded off. I was trying to process everything that had happened. One minute we all seemed to be muddling along and then the next, a massive spanner has hit the works. What would happen to Mum if Dad couldn’t look after her anymore? She certainly couldn’t live alone and I don’t have a spare bedroom. and I have a job, how would we manage?

The next morning I was awake at the crack of dawn and decided to tackle the laundry mountain that poor Dad had been dealing with on a daily basis for the past year or so. Unfortunately incontinence is a symptom of dementia and Mum had recently begun to have problems in this area. She refused to use any products designed to help even though the District Nurse had supplied some, again the “nothing is wrong” approach to things. There was washing all over the house, on every radiator. Dad would consider it far too extravagant to use the tumble dryer sitting, unused, in their utility room. I was just folding up various items of clothing when Mum appeared and demanded to know what I was doing. She would do the laundry she insisted. Even at the age of fifty something, I find it heard to assert myself with Mum and I pretended I hadn’t heard. She then seemed to realise that it was odd that I was even there at all and asked where Dad was, I explained and she nodded and asked again. She would go onto to ask me continually throughout the day. 

During the afternoon my oldest son drove over and we managed to manoeuvre Mum into his car and take her back to my house. I then cooked dinner for everybody. Mum is very sociable and thoroughly enjoyed being made a fuss off and as we left she said “I’ve had a lovely time”. Bless her, she really seemed so happy. Back at her house she announced that she would be staying up until midnight. My heart sank, it was only eight o’clock and I was already exhausted. I rang Dad who said he was feeling much better and told me that he had agreed to take part in a medical trial, treating elderly heart attack victims with medication rather than a bypass.  Fortunately I managed to persuade Mum to go to bed at ten o’clock and, after much faffing about, we both settled down for the night. Just before her head hit the pillow she asked me to knock on the neighbours doors and tell them that Dad had died. My heart sank. This was not going to be an easy few days…..

 Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

This week I have been…

On By samanthaIn GOING OUTLeave a comment

Reading – Manhattan Nocturne by Colin Harrison.

Do you ever think back to a book that you really enjoyed reading years ago but no longer have? You’d love to repurchase it or borrow it from the library but you can’t remember its name. This happens to me ALL the time. I first read Manhattan Nocturne on holiday in Florida in 2000. Because it is such a doorstep of a book and our luggage upon returning home was already overweight, I left in in the hotel room. Anyway, I was recently purchasing from World of Books on eBay and decided to have a browse and what was on the second page of scrolling but this long lost thriller, I immediately recognised the cover. 99p and a few days later I was able to begin re-reading this fantastic thriller.

Porter Wren, a tabloid columnist has a lovely life with his surgeon wife and two children living in their quirky “Apple Tree House” in New York. He meets a beautiful and mysterious young widow at a party who asks him to investigate the bizarre death of her film director husband. Unfortunately for Wren, somebody powerful is watching him very carefully and he soon finds himself in trouble way over his head. This is one of the most gripping thrillers I have read, or re-read, in long time. The author, Colin Harrison, is a former Editor of Harpers magazine and wrote a series of thrillers, all based around money and sex and set in New York. Bodies Electric being the next one I plan to revisit.

Watching-Six Years Gone on Amazon Prime Video

Not what you would call a cheerer-upper, this bleak but very compelling drama directed by Warren Dudley tells the story of Carrie, played by Veronica Jane Trickett. Pretty, young and carefree Carrie has a day off work so, after sending Lolly, her eleven year old daughter off to school, has a nap then a bit of afternoon delight with the local estate agent then pops in for a coffee and catch up with her friend. Carrie is relaxed knowing that her Mum, Mary, is going to pick up Lolly from school. Except that Mary forgets, nobody has realised that she has early onset dementia . Three hours pass before Carrie finds out that her daughter appears to have vanished off the face of the earth.

Suddenly it is six years later and Carrie looks absolutely ravaged by grief and desperation. She and Lolly had previously been living in a big house in Brighton paid for by her her ex-husband but he stops the money and she and Mary, now incontinent and needing constant care, live on a rough estate. Carrie is now working as cleaner and struggling to make ends meet. The men in her life, her ex husband and brother are noticeably absent when she needs assistance, and the police have been totally ineffective in finding missing Lolly.

What struck me most about the film is how, when spotting a young woman having the most miserable time, so many vulture-like people were circling to take advantage. From the manageress at the social club where Carrie cleans to the men who smell her desperation and take whatever they want from her, people are just out for themselves. The only kindness is from a bailiff who shows a little bit of compassion towards Carrie having recognised her name from the news. Be warned, Six Years Gone is a tough watch, there is one particularly harrowing scene, but utterly engrossing with fantastic performances, especially from Trickett and Sarah Priddy who plays Mary.

Listening to – Real Survival Stories Podcast

This is an absolutely addictive podcast and I have been known to drive around the block just to reach the end of a particular story. My favourite so far has been the two part tale Pacific Castaways . Douglas Robertson tells us how, in 1971, his family decided to embark on a trip around the globe in their yacht, The Lucette. After the vessel is attacked by a school of killer whales the seafarer’s dream trip becomes the stuff of nightmares and things just go from bad to worse. I think I would have abandoned all hope within the first ten minutes but not the Robertsons. This is absolutely compelling listening and, even after five decades have passed, Douglas still becomes emotional when recounting the events. This podcast is a Noiser production, I listened on Itunes.

Thank you for reading

Samantha

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Serums and Sheet Masks

On By samanthaIn HEALTHLeave a comment

I had a big family lunch here on Sunday and, as I had made an effort with my hair and make up, I thought it would be a good time to take a new photo for my “About-Me” page on this blog. It seemed to me that I looked nice enough when I looked in the mirror but, when I took a selfie, I got quite a shock. I could not press delete fast enough. There was a big, vertical line running next to my left eye from the eyebrow to the bottom of my eye. Yikes! I sleep on my left side on a cotton pillowcase. Yes, I have read all the advice about using silk pillowcases to prevent wrinkles but I have never taken it seriously. I remember watching an episode of “The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills” (don’t judge me) and Lisa Rinna, clearly pumped full of fillers and Botox, said she only slept on her back because “this face can’t be smooshed”. Well I smoosh my face every night.

Sunday night I tried sleeping on my back to avoid unnecessary smooshing but I felt like I was lying in a coffin. I couldn’t figure out what to do with my arms and ended up crossing them over my chest just to enhance the corpse effect. Clearly this isn’t going to be something I can commit to in the long run.

My usual bed-time skin care routine is cleanse, apply serum and moisturise. I use an eye cream during the day because, if I apply one at night time, I always wake up with stinging eyes, no matter how hypoallergenic the brand. For the past year I have been using a pricey Judith Williams serum but have just run out and have been looking for a replacement. December being such an expensive month, I bought myself a budget option from Simple, their 10% Vitamin C + E + F Booster Serum. This product has a plethora of five star reviews on Amazon and costs only £5.33 for 30mls. I buy a lot of Simple products for my teenagers but usually spend a bit more on my own skincare. The product comes in a very basic white plastic bottle with a dropper to suck up the liquid. To be honest, I have seen more glamorous looking bottles of eye drops but of course it is the quality of the product that really matters. The serum is a white liquid with a slightly unpleasant smell which I can’t really describe. The liquid is very watery and ran down my face until I massaged it in. I have to say, once smoothed on, my skin felt soft and velvety. I followed by applying the moisturiser that I’m currently using, CeraVe Skin Renewing Night Cream. Because the serum is so inexpensive I have also been using it on my hands which take a lot of battering. It’s too early to report back on any real results but at £5.33 it is worth a try.

The other new product that I have tried this week is a sheet mask by Korean beauty brand Seoulista which I bought from Oliver Bonas for £11.99 Quite pricey for a single-use beauty product but the mask is drenched in 30mls of serum, the same amount as in the entire bottle by Simple. The product’s full, rather grandiose, title is Beauty Advanced Clinic Formulation Diamond Radiance Instant Facial. I ran a hot bath and arranged the mask over my face, it felt gorgeously cool and smooth. Twenty minutes later my skin looked plumper, smoother and glowing. Being a bit thrifty, I wrapped the mask in clingfilm and used it on my neck following evening with similar results. I will definitely be buying more from this brand.

Obviously my big, vertical eye wrinkle isn’t going anywhere but I did notice it is less visible as the day progresses. I suppose, as we age, our skin takes longer to spring back into shape. Something to do with collagen no doubt, maybe I will investigate some supplements. I expect the only real solution would be Botox. As having injections next to my eyes isn’t something that appeals to me and is probably very expensive, I will be ordering the aforementioned silk pillowcase to see if this makes any difference.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover photo by pmv chamara on Unsplash

Featured

Hello There…

On By samanthaIn ABOUT MELeave a comment

I’m Samantha.  I’m a fifty-something wife, mother, daughter living in beautiful Kent, the so-called Garden of England.

Like many women of my age, I am juggling looking after my family; two of my three children are still in their teens, with helping to care for my elderly parents along with my actual paid role as a PA. It isn’t always easy is it?

I hope my little bit of online space will allow me to share the challenges that present themselves as I go through midlife along with some of the fun stuff.

I love books, films and the theatre, any form of story-telling really. When I have some free time I can usually be found either reading in a hot bubble bath , having a catch-up with with girlfriends or walking through the picturesque Kent countryside with my husband and kids (when they deign to join us). 

Thank you for taking the time to stop by my blog, I really appreciate it.

Samantha

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter One

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

It’s Boxing Day 2014. My parents have come over for lunch and now we are all sitting down with the a cup of tea, chatting. My mum asks me which sixth form my oldest son is going to. I tell her. Then she asks again. I tell her. Then, within two minutes, she asks again and a sick feeling starts in the pit of my stomach I know immediately what this is. My Godmother often visited with her sister, Baba and lovely Baba had dementia, she would ask the same question over and over again and here was my own intelligent, capable mother doing exactly the same thing.

Looking back, I can see that there were signs of Mum’s cognitive decline going back two or three years before this. One consistent characteristic of Mum’s dementia has been what I call her “catchphrases” and these started years earlier. The first such catch phrase was “is it new?” Anything I wear has to be commented on and I have to explain whether or not it is new. For a couple of years prior to me realising about Mum’s cognitive decline, I began to get very irritated by this. I remember my parents coming to babysit one evening when my husband and I were going to a black-tie event and I kept my coat on over my dress before leaving the house because I couldn’t face what I then thought was guilt tripping about my having a new item of clothing. I now realise it was simply an early manifestation of her condition. Twelve years on, even a pair of socks, will receive the same comment. Another catchphrase is “just put it on the table”. I visit my parents at least couple of times each week, usually doing a little bit of cleaning, hanging the washing out etc. but I am not permitted to do the washing up. My dad makes us all coffee or tea and, when we have finished, I gather up the cup and saucers (no mugs allowed) and attempt to get past the sentry-post that is Mum’s armchair into the kitchen to wash up. My parents don’t have a dishwasher and Dad does everything around the house now so I like to feel that I am leaving him with all the chores done. Mum won’t hear of me washing up, “just put it on the table” she will say, craning her neck to make sure I am not breaching the barrier that is the connecting door with the kitchen. So, I leave three cups and saucers on the table for my Dad to wash up after I leave.

Mum was seventy nine when her cognitive issues became undeniable. Nine years earlier, we had all began to notice that her hearing was deteriorating but she refused to go for a hearing test or even to admit that she was struggling to hear. Dad must have persuaded her to go for the test at some point but then Mum would not accept the findings. Like all of us, she can be a stubborn person and no amount of reasoning would change her mind. I tried comparing wearing hearing aids to wearing spectacles but she would just snap that her hearing was perfectly fine. Unfortunately, the slightly domineering side of Mum’s personality seems to have become more pronounced as her cognitive decline has progressed and nobody wants to argue with her because she becomes upset over the smallest thing. I had read reports of untreated hearing-loss in older people being associated with an increased risk of dementia and even printed these off for my parents to read. Still no hearing aid was worn. I began to feel resentful that Dad and my brother wouldn’t back me up. My Dad told me in confidence that Mum had been issued with the much-needed hearing aids but that they were sitting, unworn, in her bedside drawer. He said that she became extremely distressed when he tried to tactfully broach the subject of her actually making use of them. I began to understand why Dad thought it best just to leave the topic well alone.

The last Christmas day that we spent at my parent’s house was the opposite of jolly. Mum could not hear a thing anybody was saying and just sat looking miserable. I asked (shouting) if she’d consider trying out her hearing aids because surely she would like to join in with the conversations and enjoy the day with her grandchildren. Mum was not receptive to the idea at all and told me that she had been assured that her hearing was fine and that she didn’t need hearing aids and what did I know about it? Dad, and I don’t blame him for this at all, said not one word to contradict her, and we soon left. However, shortly after this, some eight or nine years after her hearing loss first became apparent, Mum finally relented and began wearing her hearing aids. I believe this is because my aunt, a year older and still glamorous, began to wear hearing aids herself and commented on what a positive difference they have made. The aids have no doubt enabled Mum to participate in conversation again but I do wonder if her cognitive decline could have been slowed, or even prevented altogether, had she used the devices when she really began to need them. We will never know.

Of course, this is really my Mum’s story, well my Mum & Dad’s, and I have had reservations about writing about this topic as my parents are very quiet, private people. I don’t think I will be sharing their names or any photos on this blog even though I have some lovely pictures of them sitting in the garden Mum “helping” Dad do his daily Cryptic Crossword in The Guardian ( he always completes it) . People’s health issues are very personal and dementia is such a devastatingly undignified condition. However, Mum’s dementia has been a huge part of my life for almost a decade now and, if nobody speaks or writes about their personal experiences with it, the stigma will always be there. As more of my friends find themselves dealing with their own elderly parents’ mental decline I find that comparing stories, and sometimes advice is reassuring and helpful.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

Christmas Lunch at The Ivy, Tunbridge Wells

On By samanthaIn GOING OUTLeave a comment

Every Christmas my good friend Helen and I have a pre-Christmas lunch at the beautiful Ivy restaurant in Tunbridge Wells,  It is rather an extravagant treat but we both work hard all year and agree that we deserve the occasional expensive cocktail.  Today didn’t get off to a very good start as my boiler was broken and we had no hot water or central heating.  British Gas came out surprisingly quickly and managed to fix the issue but I was half-frozen by the time I left home. Helen and I were catching the train and she waiting was at the station wearing the most beautiful pair of caramel coloured knee-length suede boots from Sosander. “Did you spray those with water repellent” I asked Helen. “No”, she replied, “they’ll be fine”. Cut to a couple of hours later when I am blotting an enormous water stain on the toe of her brand new boots with a tissue.

We had booked a table for twelve thirty and The Ivy confirmed that the table was reserved for an hour and a half. I understand that it is their busiest time of year and it must be somewhat tricky to tactfully move patrons along without appearing rude but the constant, not so subtle nudges, were just too much. We arrived about five minutes early and had barely sat down and had not even opened our menus when we were asked what we wanted to eat. We asked to be left for five minutes but about a minute later we were asked again. We both ordered the aforementioned pricey cocktails, mine was some sort of candy-floss confection and Helen’s was gin and cranberry, both wonderful and very strong. As we had to speed-eat we didn’t bother with a starter and both had the goose and turkey shepherds pie with a side order of broccoli, absolutely delicious and a chocolate bombe for desert which tastes like a melted Crunchie bar, a little sickly and it made me very thirsty. The plates were whisked away within a millisecond of us taking the last mouthful and the waiter told us they needed the table, this was an hour and twenty minutes after we’d arrived. The bill was brought over without us asking, clearly a very efficient system. The waiter proffering the card machine did not utter a word or make any eye contact whatsoever, it was really quite rude. I think next year we will go somewhere a little more relaxed. One cocktail, the shepherd’s pie, broccoli and chocolate bombe came to £51 each so certainly not cheap but not ridiculously expensive either.

After lunch we visited Hooper’s department store as Helen wanted to browse their Christmas shop. Instead of being on the ground floor it took a bit of detective work to find and it was a little disappointing. They had a lot of fabric decorations which had been overstuffed and were split at the seams, clearly some quality control issues on the part of the manufacturer, and some feathered things that looked like roadkill. Despite this, I did manage to spend £25 on some beautiful Gisela Graham ornaments which I didn’t really need.

So, back home now the heating is on and I need to think about getting the tree down from the loft, we can’t have a real tree because they make my husband and son sneeze, and decorating it with my new purchases.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Header photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Ugh, Christmas already??

On By samanthaIn SHOPPINGLeave a comment

Ok, admittedly rather a Scrooge-like title for this post but, let’s face it, Christmas is a lot of work, not to mention a lot of expense. Maybe your household is different but, I think it is fair to say, in many families the bulk of the to-do list falls on the woman. I am writing this with a month to go but already I am conscious that I need to choose gifts for friends who live overseas and post them. Last year I bought a friend in Australia a beautiful pale grey bag from White Stuff. Unbeknownst to me, a couple of days after I posted it, my friend moved house. She never even set eyes on that bag but I hope her former landlady enjoys using it.

Christmas becomes a little easier, but perhaps less fun, once the children become teenagers. Two of my children have birthdays in early January by which time I have usually run out of gift-giving steam. Now, I still fill a stocking (well actually a pillowcase) for each of them but they are happy with cold hard cash as a main gift. A tip to anyone considering buying a teenager a gift set of some sort, especially toiletries – don’t! They would rather have five pounds cash than a fifteen pound box of smellies that they will never use. If the idea of giving money just doesn’t feel right to you then perhaps compromise and give them a voucher, maybe ASOS who stock hundreds of different fashion brands and seem to have a permanent sale on. My youngest son would probably choose a simple white T shirt like this one from The North Face,

If you really want to give a physical gift then, for girls, I don’t think you can go far wrong with Oliver Bonas who sell beautiful accessories starting at around £15. This pretty star bracelet is simple yet elegant.

I am a sucker for a cuddly toy so, for younger children, I would probably buy a cuddly Christmas reindeer. In fact my youngest son has quite a collection of these from years past and I was very sad when he was obviously too old for soft toys. This little chap from John Lewis is very reasonably priced at £15 and is good for cuddles all year round because reindeer aren’t just for Christmas!

I enjoy choosing gifts for my friends and sometimes do adopt the “one for you, one for me” approach when I find something I really like. I usually spend around £30-£40 on these gifts. I do have rather a repetitive repertoire I must admit, silver earrings, nice make-up bags, a leather purse or card-holder, silver keyring. Something like this cute mouse keyring from Alessi or this beautiful leather purse from Sage Brown which looks like you’ve been shopping at Bottega Veneta.

My parents are n their late eighties and really don’t need much but this year I have bought them new pyjamas and dressing gowns, predictably from Marks and Spencer. I took a bit of time choosing carefully because my parents, sadly, are both very frail and can easily trip when going down the stairs if the pyjama hems are too wide or the leg too long. My mum has osteoporosis and has shrunk considerably during the past five years, so much so that I now buy the cropped leg length for her.

As for my husband, well he isn’t really worried about receiving gifts as long as everyone else is happy. This year I have bought him a much-needed new coat from Crew Clothing. They had a 20% off event which was very helpful.

Our first Christmas card arrived today, as always it is from my eighty-eight year old aunt who writes them during August. She send over two hundred and fifty, many to people she hasn’t seen for thirty years. To be honest, I suspect may of the intended recipients may have moved or even died years go as she hardly receives any in return but I am too polite to suggest this to her. She enjoys her yearly ritual of sitting out in her garden during the height of summer preparing for December! Receiving this fist card always sends me into a bit of a panic so I had better get my address book out and start writing some of my own.

Thanks for reading.

Samantha