My Mum is mental

Christmas day is over and today is Boxing day. If my Dad was still alive he would have been 80 today so my thoughts are with him. He died 4 days into the new millennium following a stroke on New Year's day, 2000.

That's the maudlin bit over.

My Mum, Marj, who lives next door to me with my Sister and Nephew, is 76 in January and she is a nutter. Not in a medically recognised way but you know what i mean.

I took these photo's today because they bring to mind what my Father had to go through on a daily basis living with Marj.

Marj likes nothing better than to potter in the garden or take a saw to things -even better if she can take a saw to things in the garden. You can often find her trundling down the garden path -tooled up- to cut things in half.

To my Dad's chagrin she would also enjoy sawing things in the house -not take things into the house and saw them to bits - but saw things that belonged in the house.

If the table in the kitchen rocked a little she would not prop something under the one leg, oh no, she would saw the other 3 legs instead.

Dad had gone out instead of mowing the lawns. This made Marj mad and when Marj is mad out comes the saw.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, my Dad expected the bed to be in tact when he came home and instead, it was about a foot lower and as he went to get in, it wasn't where he expected it to be and promptly fell in, rather than slink in.
"Tell me it's lower because you just took one mattress off and we can make it better in the morning", he said.
"Ah", she replied.
"You sawed the legs off, didn't you?" , he said.
"Yup", she said.