I talked with Mr CJ who had been washing Mrs CJ’s car and then topping up the screenwash.
When I drove back to Suburbia Somnolenta, it seemed to be getting dark quite early. Then I remembered we were only a month from the shortest day.
On the phone, I spoke with Mrs CJ. Like the Old Man, Mrs CJ’s mother had been worried about the cost of her care home, wondering whether she could afford to stay there much longer. But another relative of Mrs CJ treated her care home like a hotel, and if the staff asked her to do anything she would respond: “That’s what I pay you to do.”
Mrs CJ’s mother was only 4 foot 10 inches tall.
[Original posting 21 November 2011]