Two recent titles of mine are very apt: How do you know you are sane? And ‘If you can keep your head’. I think, here, there is a 6 day test – if you are still what they see as sane at the end you can stay, otherwise you have to go down a ladder in Old Folks’ Ratings. Coming to a place where you know nothing and nobody is just like school. I remember the first day at grammar school, 350 at assembly, 60+ new girls. They got my Christian and surname wrong, too terrified to put my hand up and correct it, then in trouble from form mistress for NOT correcting it.

Even better this afternoon, singing group. We had a leader, obviously professional, and very camp. He could have been modelled on the character played by John Inman in ‘Are you being served?’ He had stolen somebody’s stick to conduct with. He discovered it folded and I asked him to see if there was a brandy compartment. I was already out of control, the rest joined in. He was like the horrible teacher in our infants’ class in the war, who   came round listening to see if we were sharp or flat, at 6 years old!

The first test is finding your room. They gave me a key with a sticker with the number of the flat, which fell off. I was in a temporary flat with son. Not only no idea where I was living, but you come out of the lift and no signs of what numbers go where. Lifts serious test of orienteering. Some have just one entry, others entry and exit. Get in one of those, wait for door to open, but ‘It’s behind you’. By the time light has dawned the door has shut and I am wafted upwards or downwards. The best lift for the swimming pool is at the far end of my corridor, lifts not indicated. Who designed this place? They must have had a special  compass.

First morning solo, son left, in own flat. 8.45 no breakfast. Phone down, bewildered. It had left the kitchen. Delivered to previous flat, obviously empty, and left there. Who did the waiter think was going to eat it? A Viet-namese man opposite me at lunch has me riveted on his habits. He chose his first course, did not like it. Waitress said she knew he did not like it, but he ordered it. He had yogurt instead of cheese, ate two spoonfuls, filled it with sugar, another two spoonfuls, filled with sugar again, must have had 6 spoonfuls. He has no teeth.

At least 6 people have greeted me and made me sign endless papers. I still have no phone plugged in and so cold wrapped in a blanket. But there is a super supermarket, flowered balconies opposite. Lots more activities than last place. My swimming pool is again private. Seeing the very funny side of things and liberal doses of G & T should support me till the sun comes out. 

The Gardener

A Moodscope member