The Porch

Not mine I hasten to add.

I revisited a previous client with dementia. Needless to say, she didn't have a clue who I was but I had a sudden urge to check her condition. I don't agree with leaving someone with advanced dementia alone for hours, locked in a house where so much can go wrong. I left in the hope that the more sensible of her children would convince the others that the time had come for her to go into residential care. A sad fail. She's still at home despite my efforts . Her present carers are doing their best but there is only so much they can do in the time her family are willing to pay for. Despite what you see, it's actually looking good.

When I first met her, the damp porch, with it's leaking roof, broken windows and rising damp, was filled with a lifetimes worth of old old bottles, tools and junk that intermingled with plants and weeds that grew out of the piles of earth that had been created from years of fallen and never swept up leaves. That was just the porch. The conditions in the rest of the house were no better.

It may not be what you'd want to live in but it makes a good photo.
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