In their words

Dad's been in the same Kingswood house since before I was born and the yard got away from him a while back. He wouldn't ask anybody. You know how they are. So I booked it myself and told him it was already sorted, because that was the only way that conversation was ever going to go.

Whipper snipper, the edges along the driveway, the gutter at the back. Green waste stacked out the front for the council pickup, which I would have forgotten about.

Then the two of them stood there for twenty minutes over the lemon tree. Dad has theories about that lemon tree. He has had them for years and none of us listen any more.

I have booked him twice since.

Specialist appointment at Nepean and my usual lift fell over the night before, which I found out at about nine o'clock.

Booked it on the app in the morning. The Zoomly Van came, ramp down, chair strapped in, gone. He came into the waiting room with me and held my bag while I did the forms, then we stopped at the bakery on the way back because I felt like it.

That is the whole story. It was a Tuesday.

Somebody I coordinate for had a standing Thursday at Ripples. It fell over on the morning. That happens far more often than anyone admits.

First time I used it I booked the wrong support type and had to go back and change it, which was me and not the app. Second time took about four minutes. Four minutes against the half day I would normally lose to the phone.

The part I did not expect to matter was seeing who was coming, because it meant I could tell him who was coming. He does not like a stranger at the door and I do not blame him.

Thursday still happened.

Wednesdays I am out at Emu Plains. We do the shop first, then a batch for the freezer, labelled and dated so he knows what is what on a Friday when he is tired.

He is particular about the curry. Right heat, no shortcuts, and he is right to be. We have worked out which meals reheat properly and which ones go to mush, and I have stopped putting the mush ones on the list.

Half of it is the cooking and half of it is talking rubbish over the chopping board. I have had jobs where you are not really meant to do the second part. This one you are.

I work a late roster and the flat gets away from me by about Thursday. I book a Sunday morning and it resets the week.

First time round I did not leave a note, so I got a very thorough clean of things that did not need cleaning and the oven stayed exactly how it was. Fair enough. That was on me.

Now I leave a note. Last time the note just said oven.

I wanted to do my own shopping without Mum coming along. We started with a list on my phone and did the aisles slowly.

Now I do the whole shop and tap my own card and get the bus back. He walks with me and stays quiet unless I ask him something. That took a bit of practice. For him more than me, I reckon.

Same bloke does my mornings before work. I like that it is the same bloke.