
Growing around an old apple tree in the orchard are these wonderful wild blackberries. They have made the most luscious jam which just begged for fresh homemade buttermilk scones and of course, clotted cream. I decided to make some despite the comment that would follow……..and it did.

My mother just cannot resist it and sure enough having thoroughly enjoyed the scone with jam and cream came the inevitable comment, “well these will put weight on”. the scones are tiny and featherlight and yes, if you ate a few with jam and clotted cream they certainly wouldn’t help a weight loss. I think the only answer is to live on dust!
But I cannot let this get me down. I have always gained so much pleasure from cooking and living here in the country I have a wonderful selection of produce to choose from especially during these summer months when we are surrounded by an abundance of good things. Unfortunately at the moment I cook when I am bored and being so trapped I am bored a great deal. In the beginning it was ok and life carried on to a point but as the months have passed we are being ground down with the sheer relentlessness of the timetable we now have to follow.

Having had one good day and then one bad day since my last post I decided my new mantra must be to try harder despite feelings of frustration and at times anger. Emotionally life with a 99 year old is like riding a roller coaster. It was apparently suggested, not to me I may add, that my lovely garden studio could be an ironing room with the board left up permanently. My mother bought me this lovely shed some years ago as a present and before she came to live with us I had time to paint, a much loved hobby but since her arrival and the demands made upon us I haven’t had the time to make use of my special space. Unfortunately the shrinking of our horizons to those of hers over the three years have taken their toll and I feel little inclination to even try now. My husband struggles as well to find enthusiasm to do things. We have discussed this and recognise that the problem is ours but we are unable to find a working solution at the moment. If my mother even suggested we go out on our own it might help but all we get is the royal ‘we’ and there is no suggestion or thought that we might like to go out alone. When we have said we are going out on our own (twice in three years) we are made to feel guilty which rather takes the edge of any enjoyment. I know we must stop being wimps about this but we also can’t just go out now for any length of time without leaving someone with her, any semblance of common sense seems to have flown out the window. Although still fairly mobile she is partially sighted, deaf and becoming increasingly frail. My mother, at 99 years of age, will not accept her limitations which is admirable in some ways but can result in real danger in other ways.
