I got up at 05:13, and I sent the Old Man back to bed at 05:30.
The Old Man was rambling first thing, saying that the man who used to take him to the hospice had been hanging about outside the house yesterday, and that he (the Old Man) might be going to the hospice again. After breakfast, the Old Man said that the man had been looking “to see if you’d gone back, and if your car hadn’t been there” the man would have taken him to the hospice. I replied to the Old Man that he went out to lunch on Thursdays, not Tuesdays or Wednesdays.
On the way back from MegaGroce, mid-morning, the Old Man again said that he would be going back to the hospice. I told him that maybe some day he would go back, but that his return wasn’t imminent. With this the Old Man willingly expressed agreement.
“All swollen,” said the Old Man after taking his four evening tablets.
“All swallowed,” I corrected him.
He laughed in agreement.
[Original posting 17 March 2011]