Red Riding Hood

This  afternoon, feeling rather like  little  red riding hood, I  visited  my Mother in the  care home. She was also being visited by a community nurse who wanted to carry out an assessment of  her mental capacity. As always, she  did  very well on the tests. I can't help feeling  the  tests are culturally biased in favour of well educated, articulate, British -born, people like my Mother, She relishes the opportunity to do another quiz, word game, and number puzzle,  as well as a chance  to regale  a new person with a few of her old stories. These assessments  really don't  reveal  the extent of her short term memory difficulties, and  how frustrating it is for her to feel she is losing control of much of her  life. 
 
Afterwards, Doris  and I spent some time  in the  garden, with her re- telling  me more of her old stories, and insisting she needs to "return home" before too long, despite accepting how difficult (impossible) it would  be for her to manage on her own...
Another  long phone conversation  with my sister, this  evening, about today's proceedings.     

These jolly  tulips are in my garden.  I like to grow the Red Riding Hood tulips for their attractive foliage, as well as their flowers.