A Day in the Kitchen

Actually, before we go any further, I must tell you, reader mine, why I gave one of my posts the title "That Poor Guy", then went rambling on anything but. Well, I was so furious by the end of that evening (foolishly thinking it could not get any worse), that a phone call from Guy (my friend and former flatmate in South London, who is in Israel, staying partly with his parents, not even 1/4 mile from where my parents live now) was more than welcome. I jumped at the offer to go out for a walk. You see where this is going? Yep! I poured my heart out to him, and he was just great: empathetic, and willing to let me go on. I did get told off however, for turning up in my Crocs. I hadn't realised by "out for a walk" he'd meant a brisk, envigorating exercise. Yeah, like that was gonna happen. We did walk around the quiet streets of Old Ramat Hasharon, officially a town, but in its heart still an old "moshava" - hard to explain, I guess it's a rural community, where nobody actually work the land anymore. We crossed a couple of small parks, dimly lit and almost deserted but for some youths hanging around, chatting (in London they'd be flashing knives, and you'd be lucky to get out alive), the sense of calm clashing with the turmoil raging in my head. We ended up in our regular place (been there twice). This time I would pass over some lovely iced tea or mineral water. I wanted hooch. I took a bottle of strong Belgian beer, and a large glass of gin. Guy was almost as reckless: he had a bottle of fruit flavoured mineral water! It should be noted he eschewed the glass placed in front of him and drank from the bottle. Who ever said the answer is never found at the bottom of a glass? I felt great after this drink. Wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to anyone. Well, not anyone obviously. And the answer is indeed never there. Still, I was cheered up by it, or rather by the company.
That will clear the mystery for my readership regarding the Poor Guy reference. As for today's developments, I shall be brief this time. Prof. Adonski, my parents old GP came at my sister's request to see my mum. We stayed out of sight so as not to appear involved, which could scare her off. He reported back to us after the meeting. Our fears were further confirmed (Adonski is a psycho-geriatric specialist) and he was firmly in favour of medication therapy, as she is largely uncommunicative. The meeting had gone well, she not only cooperated, she actively asked to have a word with him in private (he went to see dad on the pretext of an informal, friendly call, and mum was with him at the time). She repeated to him all her fears: we, especially Lea are plotting against her, we wish her dead so we can inherit her money, we're trying to poison her (her anti-insomnia tablets have been changed to generically identical drug, but one that is swallowed, unlike the usual one that can be dissolved in the mouth. She won't touch it). We now need to get her to see the house doctor, and we hope to find a way to make her consent to try a drug that would treat her mental state or put it under some control. That will have to wait till Sunday, as it's Friday afternoon now, and Israel shuts down till Sunday morning, the first day of the working week here.
This evening, with the doctor's dispensation, and against mum's protests, we are taking dad out to Lea's house for Idan's 20th birthday party. Watch this space.
Oh, and the kitchen reference? Thanks for asking: I have cooked up a storm in the kitchen today, is all...