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Extra Butter

December 19, 2018

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We were up with the birds and into the hospital early this morning for Mum’s regular eye inspection and injection. On the way home we stopped for a coffee and snack. This is Mum with her pinwheel scone, ‘I’ll have extra butter, thank you’ and later to me, ‘Get a couple of serviettes. I’m taking half of this scone and the extra butter home.’

Last night, I was told that we had to be out of the house at five to eight. At a quarter to eight while leisurely finishing my toast, I had Mum telling me to shake a leg. Then, with her generous micromanagement — ‘Stay in the left lane’, ‘You’ve put your indicator on too early’, ‘Slow down for that corner’, ‘Why do you put your indicators on so early?’, ‘Slow down for the speed bump’, ‘You don’t need to be fussy with parking here. The disabled car parks are very wide’, ‘No, no. Move the car back. You’re sticking out too far’ — we made it to the hospital early and enjoyed half an hour of contemplation on a vinyl bench before she was processed.

The injections always make her vision blurry for a day or so but that hasn’t stopped her making the stuffing for the Christmas chickens. She’s six days early but she’s already told me she’s going to freeze it.

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