Grabber stick

Still sorting through Mum’s boxes and stuff I wanted to keep. Pictures, kitchen gadgets and plates, artwork, postcards, it’s a herculean task. We had a picnic outside today using the lovely flowery plates we bought together on holiday in France. Just cheap ones, but they remind me of heady summer days.

I also brought back anything I thought I might manage to recycle or give to someone else who might find it useful. Among all the paraphernalia is a grabber stick, a long stick with a handle at one end and a pincer at the other. Mum found it really useful to pick things up when she dropped them and I had the stick marked down for another elderly friend of mine.

Today I dropped my mobile on the floor and realised I couldn’t bend down to pick it up as the back is still very bad. Grabber stick to the rescue! I’m becoming one of those people with myriad supports – a seat for the shower, the love/hate relationship with the stick, glasses to read with. And now a grabber stick. Somehow it’s not as bad as the stick, as it seems less permanent (I’m hoping the back will mend) and it’s quite fun to use.

Small pleasures.

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