More importantly, though, Mum would rather be reading a book or sitting in the garden, so she'd wander off mid-preparation. On a bad day she'd put the lentils or kidney beans on to boil and remember them only when smoke was curling under the door into the sitting room. Then Anna or I cleared the table and Mum reappeared with the next course, which might have been apple crumble, or bread-and-butter pudding. Sometimes he literally wouldn't talk to Mum for months on end, apart from brief pretences for the benefit of visitors. Despite the humiliations, Mum didn't curl up and die.

Source: New Zealand Herald November 04, 2016 19:00 UTC