Sunday 30-5-10: groceries in the garage

I got up at 05:02. When I came downstairs I saw the last thing I wanted to see: the Old Man asleep in his armchair. He wasn’t wearing his pullover. He insisted that he had been to bed. My wholemeal loaf was in a MegaGroce bag on the computer table — the Old Man said he had noticed someone had put it there. Over the next hour he asked a few times whether I could have been that person — but it seemed clear that he thought it had been an intruder.
His bed had been slept in, and the electric blanket had been left switched on.
He said that cancelling the help with buying a new printer had been just a joke.
He wanted to get a replacement set of teeth.

I conducted the morning medication session, trying to get the Old Man accustomed to using the two new plastic boxes from Cheapo. I had to press him to drink all the dispersible aspirin — perhaps this explains why he often says that there is water in the cup.
That morning, he asked me what was the address of his house. I told him Acacia Grove.
At 10:20 I opened the oven and found a meat pie on the lower shelf. It clearly had been cooked. Probably the Old Man had forgotten that he had put it in but had seen that the oven was on and had switched it off. This must have happened on Friday 28 May or earlier. The pie smelt OK but I binned it.
“I’ll bet if we put our groceries in the garage, nothing would happen,” said the Old Man. He meant that nothing would be stolen. He added that we’d have to take away the garage key.
“I’ve wasted away.” — a reference to his bread having been stolen.
“I’m very pleased with myself, BLEKE.” — i.e. that he had worked out it was young lads who had been breaking in, and not Mr & Mrs CJ. But an hour later he asked:
“Have you seen those men [sic] next door today?”
From the dining-room window, I saw something lying on the Old Man’s back garden. I went out to check what it was. It turned out to be a pair of khaki shorts, which must have blown off Mrs CJ’s washing-line. I took them round to her, handing them over at the front door.

[Original posting 30 May 2011]

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