3 June
Tomorrow is an important day mother. There is to be
financial review in to how much she should be paying for her place at the care
home she lives in. This has come about simply because her capital has now
fallen below the level where she had to pay all her fees. As a private resident
she has been paying something like £4,000 a month for the last two years. At
that rate the funds from the sale of the house have just about gone.
And things will only get worse as time goes on. Mam
and dad worked hard to buy the house and to see it all go in this way is not a
very satisfying experience. I did say some time ago however, that it was her
house and she should get the benefit from it, and I still feel that way. What
annoys me is that when we got in touch with social services about a review we
were told that mother won’t need to move to another because of lack of funds,
the same care home has funds at the county council rate. And there’s the rub
really; why weren’t we told that when she was moved in there at that time? That
is still a question we haven’t had an explanation for.
The other main issue that really bugs me is that the
house couldn’t be sold because we were living there; I was over 60 years old
and had a disability. I’ve always felt that was the reason social services made
things so hard for us when mother first went into a care home, they couldn’t
get their sticky mits on the house to save them even more in care fees. Trying
to get anything out of a social worker is next to impossible when they dig
their toes in.
Things changed for mother, Jan and me two years ago
when Jan had a stroke coming out of the aesthetic after an operation. As it
was, we were both finding things harder as time went on to go and down the
stairs. I suppose we could have had a stair lift put in but there was no way we
could afford it; and I have a funny feeling that because of the layout of the
stairs and landing, it would have cost even more than normal. That all changed
after Jan’s stoke.
I bid on five council properties in the town, all ground
flats or bungalows. The bids went in the Friday before the bank holiday and on
the Tuesday after I took a phone call from the council offering me the choice
of two properties. Well, that suited us every well indeed. Two days later I
signed the tenancy for this place.
That meant that mother’s house had to go. I didn’t
like but we didn’t really have any choice. It went on the market the following
Friday morning and it had sold by 3pm that same afternoon. We were all
surprised by that. And then the fun and games began!
That first buyer pulled out two weeks later. By then I
had made the mistake of telling social services that the house was on the
market and had already sold. It finally sold two weeks before Christmas 2011.
It was a big weight of our mind I can tell you! By that time however, six
months fees had built up at £3,600 (they have gone since then,) and that left
us with a fairly large chunk of money leaving mothers bank account to pay it
off. Since then most of the rest has just disappeared in care fees.
For today’s photo we are back to last Friday again …
Worchester Cathedral tower as Jan drove past it on the way home.
And today’s funny …
I hired a
new maid last year but she wasn’t doing a great job. I called her into the
study and told that I was sorry but I was going to have to let her
go. I tipped her an extra $20 and thanked her for her services. As she
was leaving she threw a $10 bill to our dog, Lucy. I asked her, “What was that
for?” She replied, “Can’t forget my helper! Lucy has a great tongue, and always
helped me do the dishes!!!”
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