Watering, preserving, telephone scams and lost wallets - what else are bank holiday Monday’s for?

I watered the garden and pots, pruned one of the pear trees, planted up agapanthus, made squash soup for the freezer, dehydrated Braeburn and Cox’s apple rings, bottled (canned) Williams (Bartlett) pears and Bramley apple sauce and the, now seemingly, weekly litre of passata (or something I am calling passata - my apologies to any Italians).

The main squash bed has been cleared and most of those squash are in the greenhouse for their final cure.  Three, now two, were placed in the emergency ward that is the kitchen windowsill.  One, the soup sized one, is now precisely that.  There are another two larger ones in slightly shadier garden bed where they will stay for a few weeks longer. 

There is plenty more to do in the garden and in the house come to that but I was already at the stage of only having time to deal with what was immediately in front of me and really could not wait.

Then there was the ironing to do.  That was, however, delayed, as was supper come to that.  Some charmer decided 5pm on a bank holiday Monday was just the time to telephone scam my mum.  Realising this a little too late, she then messaged me.  So that was a couple of hours getting there, trying to establish exactly what information had been given, strengthening email security etc and driving back via the fish and chip shop.  None of which was on the plan.  A further three hours on Tuesday morning was spent going with her to sort stuff face to face and get her correct information reinstated on an account which had been changed as a result of the information she had unwittingly provided during the call.  Potential fraud warnings all noted on the account, password and security questions all changed.  Not that passwords necessarily needed changing.  She has no idea what they are so we could be fairly well assured that she didn’t tell anyone those.  

Everyone was lovely to her, very helpful and shared stories of their nearest and dearest who had been caught out in similar situations which helped a little with the knock to her confidence.  I, however, sat and watched as she placed her phone at the side of a desk that was situated alongside a walkway.  It really wasn’t the time or place for that little lecture but if she continues to do it I see no possibility of her keeping hold of that phone!

We then went back to my parents for a cup of tea and for me to make the calls I had written out pointers for them earlier in the weekend for them to do and to get mail into envelopes for me to post and a few other personal admin things that they were not quite ready to deal with after the telephone shock.  

I then went home to my desk to catch up with the work that my employer, entirely reasonably, expects me to do.  

Towards the end of the afternoon I get a message.  My parents had gone to the Police station to see if anyone had handed in Dad’s wallet which he thinks he lost on Saturday.  Suffice to say it had not been handed in.  This incident had not been mentioned to me previously.  As it happens, actual wallet aside which he quite liked, he only lost about £20 so not really a big deal but I’d put £20 on it having been left resting on the edge of a table where people walk by.

The street smarts of those in their 80s (or at least those known to me) are not, unfortunately, keeping pace with the times.  I worry how they are going to navigate through the next few years without serious mishap.