Departure for "Sunny" Rhyl is scheduled for tomorrow. It was my idea to have Christmas one day earlier than normally advertised.
Mother is now, to be perfectly frank, at a stage in life where one day is pretty much like any other. It's maybe unfair to go as far as to say she doesn't know what day it is, and also, when I tried her out last visit, she still passed the Tony Blair Test with full marks. Why pay all that money for a meal out on the one day in the year when they bump up the price of Turkey all because of Baby Jesus? You can get a perfectly adequate Christmas dinner at the "Tweedmill" any time up to three weeks before 'His' official birthday, with wheelchair access, disabled toilets and you can pick up a cut price pair of jeans at the same time. Another advantage is that my brother won't have to defy the laws of physics by being in two places at once on the 25th, but will still be able to eat Christmas dinner twice, as we all will, even Mother, who still has a remarkable digestion at 92.
She will probably have forgotten anyway, by the time she's eating turkey with all the trimmings again a day later in the care home.
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