DEMENTIA CARE. BALLS, I SAY.

The nature of being a carer keeps me away from the blog. As the year is dwindling fast, I should put in an appearance. What to talk about? Preparing for the festive season.
   Balls, I say.

   Shiny shiny balls. I had to ask. Would you like a new tree? This is a tricky one. Is the new tree going to have lights? Will it increase risk of fire or electrical hazard? Is it a danger to shipping? Will it topple easily if approached with the lightest step?

   I hefted that tree into position, and it seemed to be okay. It's a familiar symbol. So that's a good thing. Rooting around in the loft, I discovered a bag of old balls.

   Baubles. Stars. Comedy snowmen. Apples. Cherubs. Icicles. Santas. They all went on the tree. These decorations were retired when an old tree bit the dust...

   They wouldn't fit well on a new electrical tree. But the decorations were shoved away in the loft because that's where things end up being stored. Things you'll never need again.

   Until this brand-new electrical tree came in. And it looked like this model could take the old decorations. Scratched, battered, still shiny, the baubles are very familiar images to someone who has trouble remembering.

   And so. This is the time of year when we're supposed to think of the harshness of winter in this part of the world. And of people who aren't having a great time of it.

   I don't have far to go in that direction, but I try to make sure that there's as good a time as possible. That means concentrating on festive memories, in aid of someone who can't concentrate.

   We splash out on expensive crackers. Not because there's a desperate need for some form of festivity. It's just that...the more expensive they are, the fewer there are in the box.

   I ask if that's what's wanted. Cheaper crackers.

   What will I do with a dozen of those?

   Good question. The obvious answer is...struggle to pull them, every fucking time. And so, we cut down on the quantity. This increases the quality.

   And it's all about increasing the quality of life. The standard of care. A memory of the memory of the festive season.

   There's no point to this blog post. Except to say...for dementia care, if you can't put up the old tree...you can spring for a new one and throw on the old decorations. Even if the baubles are old, they still shine away in the corner as the gloom extends into night.

   The next big thing is dinner on the 25th. That was planned well in advance. But then, dementia or no, it always is.