I felt a little bad for my mum today. She's been trying to help me out by making me special post-childbirth foods, as well as food in general, and is hampered by her lack of mobility.
Since her fall three or four months ago, she's been fearful of getting on buses by herself, and she doesn't drive. She seems to have trouble asking her friends to either drive her over to my house or to accompany her on the bus, and my brother is really busy with his own family stuff.
So - she makes all these special soups, full of scary looking fungi, and ends up giving it away because she can't get it over here while it's nice and fresh. I'd offer to go and pick it up myself, but of course I'm supposed to stay indoors for another week and a half. I could ask the boy to go and pick it up I suppose, but he works so hard during the week that I'm really loathe to ask him to drive out there after work.
I don't particularly believe in the usefulness of her soups and ginger preserves, but I do know she's trying to help out as much as she can. If only my Cantonese were much better, I'd try and tell her this myself rather than just blog about it in English.