Unscheduled Wednesday

I arrived at Peakville in the middle of the afternoon. Mr CJ was washing his car.
In the living-room, the Old Man had a plate and a foil dish next to him. I supposed that this explained the smell of cooking which I had noticed when I entered the house via the front door. In fact, however, the Old Man had put a meat pie and some oven-chips into the oven, had forgotten about them and had fallen asleep — he awoke when I stepped the living-room. When I realised why there was the smell of cooking, I immediately took the food out of the oven. The pie was edible but most of the chips were burnt.
We both had some soup.
District Nurse C had left me a handwritten note, and had made some jottings in the ring-binder.
The Old Man’s knees were painful. He had left his electric blanket on, and he had restored to its place the rug which Dr A and Mrs CJ had folded up. I folded it up again — “Doctor’s orders!” — and took it into the dining-room for storage.
In the evening, the Old Man asked me which bedroom I would be sleeping in.

[Original posting 9 March 2010]

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