Tuesday, July 06, 2010


When Pearlie returned from her last respite break in The Wee Free Orange Home for Retired Gentlefolk she found, to her horror and mine, that half her entire team of Caring Type People had been changed. It wasn't the ones that keep her clean and comfy - it was the ones that scramble her eggs, prepare her panada and carry her in cups of tea. They're the ones I hate the most because they invade my kitchen. They're not supposed to because Pearlie has her own kitchen but a lot of them prefer cooking on gas than electricity. Bert doesn't help as he has nice wee chats with them and they all think he's lovely and easy-going. I call his wee chats Fraternising With The Enemy and try to discourage it but it's not easy when I'm not there most of the time. In theory Bert could sort her out with food and drink because she's not that difficult to fodder but if she was depending on him she'd be dead of thirst and starvation many years ago. He forgets he has a mother when he is out in his polytunnel. He forgets to feed himself as well. There is nothing a hard working woman likes to hear on her return from a highly stressful day at the office than the words, "What are we eating?"

But - to get back to The Invaders - I'd got used to the last team and they got used to me. There was one I thoroughly loathed and a couple I positively liked and the rest were tolerable. But I'm not too sure about this new bunch. It hasn't helped that Bert started them all off on the wrong foot by telling them that they could use our kitchen.  Now I have to be Mrs Mean and tell them they can't. I'm sure that when I'm at work Bert has them in tee-heeing with them and laughing behind my back. But not at the weekends - no sirree!

On Sunday one of them came through the back door singing. Singing hymns! Christian hymns! I could have been a Muslim for all she knew. She spotted me washing down my worktops. She called out a gaily "Hello! Lovely day isn't it!" I glared at her and closed the door. She carried on carolling hymns. Surely I do not have my sorrows to seek when a hymn-singing harridan can enter my house at will and get paid for it!    

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