It's election day in Canada. Here in Kookytown, the lawn signs seem to indicate (at least in my riding) that the NDP candidate (and incumbent) will win. I will vote this evening...and I'm quite curious, as most of us are, I think, as to how it will all turn out for the country.
On the home front, the same question looms: how will it all turn out? Anthony's mother paid us a visit for Easter dinner last weekend. She was dressed like a bag lady, and kept discussing Pierre Trudeau's latest visit to her home.
My mother, on the other hand, remains impeccable in her appearance, if nothing else. Her mind wanders and she is clearly lost in the mist sometimes. Yesterday, for example, she told me she had grand memories of a party I threw at "the place we used to live before we lived here." Well, she and I haven't lived together anywhere else. At least, not in recent years. You'd have to go back to my childhood to remember another place where she and I lived together. So I have no idea what she was talking about, and ultimately, neither did she, because she wavered after a moment, and said "never mind."
She brought up her darn bed again yesterday, too. I think it was all spurred by the fact that Anthony and I had bought a lovely bed frame and headboard for Kathleen's bed (which used to be my mother's bed). Sally seemed petulant and jealous when I told her, and immediatley demanded a new mattress for herself. Of course, we'll go out to get it for her, and she'll probably say "never mind" to that, too, as she has in the past when she's had conniptions from time-to-time about her bed.
Meanwhile, Doris rambles on about the Trudeaus, and money seems to be getting siphoned at a faster and faster rate from her account. Last week, she took out $1200, an amount quite alarming, considering she literally has no expenses except groceries. The $1200 is on top of about $200 she regularly takes out every week, which is more than enough to buy food for two: Doris and her leech son John.
Anthony strongly suspects it is the leech who marches rambling Doris down to the bank when he wants some cash. And Anthony knows his brother as well as anyone.
But he hesitates to intervene. Doris will get angry and blame Anthony if he questions her at all about the money drippping out of her account. But she may well need that money in years to come. Leech-boy shouldn't be allowed to practice his elder-abuse without some challenge. What to do, what to do?