Senile

 On my birthday, my husband forced me to deal with my mother. So I bagged up 4 trash bags of rotten food. I tried to wash dishes, but I think the sink is clogged. It became overwhelming fast. I haven't gone back over.

Yesterday, I decided to work in the vineyard. I went in the house to check on my mother. This is her kitchen:

From the backdoor.

The stove.

The trash I emptied 12 days before. This means she did not take her trash can down to the road last week.

I had this counter completely empty.

Most of the sandwiches are barely eaten. A few nibbles. That's it.

Another view of the stove.

The dinning room table. 

I talked to my mother when I arrived, and again before I left. She seemed much more rational when I left. I think I am her point of reference. When she sees me, she gets back to reality. I am debating how many times I should go back. I could work in the greenhouse today, but the more my mother sees me, the more likely is to become verbally abusive. 

Blessed be, my dears.